Ripples
by lovemisery
Summary: Pettigrew was right under their noses the entire time. Lupin confiscates the map from Harry, and this time he won't be turning into a werewolf. My version of a free Sirius. AU Third year. Cannon Pairings. Not slash. Rating for later chapters. R&R
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimed: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else from Rowling's world. Some text is used from the Prisoner of Azkaban page 290 and the movie the Prisoner of Azkaban.  
>Author's note: As I'm in the process of editing my Marauder Era story this is going to be a slow process. I'll never make you wait longer than three weeks though, promise. Reviews are encouraging.<p>

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><p><em>"…A poor way to repay them – gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."<em>

Lupin turned to walk away, eyes lingering on Harry for almost a moment before the soles of his shoes squawked against the floor. Harry remembered something just as Remus reached the marble staircase.

"Professor," Harry called.

Remus paused as Ron glanced curiously between them, and Harry said, "You should know that map doesn't always work."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw someone on it I know for a fact to be dead."

"And who would that be?" Lupin asked with a scrutinizing look.

"Peter Pettigrew."

For a second time froze, then Lupin said very quietly, "that's impossible."

"Maybe the map was lying."

"The map doesn't lie," Remus toned as Ron was glanced avidly between them.

"It's just what I saw," Harry swallowed.

Lupin hesitated again and then glanced to the folded parchment in his hand before looking up at Harry and Ron. He sniffed and turned on his heal, taking the stairs much faster than he had prior. Relieved that Harry and his friend hadn't following him Remus locked himself in his office and unfolded the parchment, laying it along his desk. Taking a deep breath he tapped his wand to the parchment and said something he never thought he would again, not for eighteen long years.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he croaked in just above a whisper.

Lines ebbed out across the map exactly as he'd planned for them too, so many years previous. Four boys sitting in the dim light of a half burnt candle, waiting anxiously to see the fruits of their labor. The Marauder's Map had been of course the child of James' and Sirius' inattentive thought processes gone wild. A dream until Remus had stumbled across a map making book their fourth year. It had taken nearly a year for them to finally make it, and only with the biggest diversion they'd ever crafted. To finish the map they had needed a piece of a sorting hat, just a tiny patch from the relic perched right in Dumbledore's office. The cauldron hissed black steaming ink as they dropped it in, and then Sirius ever eager, dumped it over the six foot long roll of parchment they'd been pouring most of their magic into for months. For a moment the boys were quite, watching the ink sink into the paper.

"Why isn't working," Sirius whined impatiently.

Remus hid his smile while James drew his wand and tapped the map; when nothing happened his face screwed around and he said, "Come on – my brain is blistering from this crock; bollocks!"

Fancy cursive began to scrawl across the page at his indignation, Remus sat and watched as Peter, James, and Sirius craned their necks to read it.

_Mr. Moony suggests that Mr. Prongs never had a brain to begin with._

_Mr. Padfoot agrees and provides that there isn't any room in that thick skull._

_Mr. Wormtail suggests some salve for the blisters or at the very least for Mr. Prongs to shut his mouth._

James mouth snapped shut as Sirius roared with laughter and Peter smirked brightly, when James managed a smile he glanced at Moony, "Brill Moony!"

When Sirius quieted he breathed, "But then how do we work it?"

Lupin drew his wand and with quite the opposite feeling of the withered man he would become, he excitedly prodded the map, and croaked in a tiny whisper, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"Wicked," James and Sirius chorused as black lines ebbed across the map. Peter watched in awe while Remus' smile grew; it had worked.

It worked years later as well, Remus' eyes focused as he spotted himself, Peeves was two corridors away bouncing back and forth. Instantly Remus' eyes snapped to Harry and his friend, already in their common room. Thereafter he began to scan the map, searching for the impossible. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, unfolding pocket after pocket, he moved around his desk to sit down tiredly. Stretching his aching muscles he leaned over the map once more. As he almost gave up he spotted it, bobbing right and left in Hagrid's tiny house. In the immortalized black ink of Hagrid's hut floated a dot, one he'd seen many times before.

Remus felt ill.

His weak stomach turned around and around before he finally did sick up, right into the bin aside his desk. Sitting on the edge of his chair, waste basket between his legs, he sat up a little panting heavily stomach roiling. His head throbbed as he looked frantically back at the map almost afraid he'd imagined it, even though he wasn't sure what it had yet to mean. Even if Peter was alive he didn't know what he would do or what it could mean. For twelve years Remus Lupin had mulled over the loss of the greatest friends he'd ever had, and then in less than one he'd found two of them were more close then he'd known. Peter was under his nose, pacing by the looks of it.

Standing up Remus immediately hesitated; barging into Hagrid's hut seemed problematic. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was a werewolf, he didn't need anyone thinking him mad on top of it all. Eyes searching his office for answers he didn't have, Remus Lupin began to pace. Feet protesting he continued the nervous habit for nearly an hour, working out the only solution he could think of in his overworked mind. They had switched. It didn't make sense, not unless - he thought achingly - that his friends had believed him the spy. It fit if there was any truth to it; Peter betrayed James and Lily, and Sirius was innocent as he should have believed all along. Something must have tipped his old friend off hundreds of miles away in Azkaban. He had known Pettigrew was near Harry and had somehow escaped; although Remus had a fairly good idea of how he had managed that. It explained everything from the muttering to Sirius' insanity; Remus hadn't been the only person to lose everything that Halloween night. He pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing back at the map. He would have to do things differently. Barging into Hagrid's hut would definitely alert Peter to something, and if Peter was guilty, then Remus suspected it would be no easy fete to catch him.

Dumbledore was not in his office when Remus finally made up the decision to address him; heart hammering in his throat, disappointment settled in his stomach at the headmaster's absence. McGonagall hadn't been able to tell him where he'd gone or for what reason, but Remus found himself losing nerve with the more time that went by. Telling his mentor, the man who had made it possible for him to attend Hogwarts, all of the ways he'd disrespected him was hard enough. Anxiety rippled through him as he fought the urge to find Peter himself. He couldn't be sure what he wouldn't be capable of doing when he did find him. At the same time the longer he glanced at the map the more he expected Peter to disappear completely.

Finally, with nothing more than a transfigured rat cage, the werewolf disillusioned himself and set off onto the dark grounds. Dropping the cage outside of Hagrid's front door he tried to think of a way to draw Hagrid outside. Remus could see Hagrid through the window, fettering with something in the grate as Fang paced, perhaps anxious to go outside as dogs often were. It gave Remus the idea to knock of the door and hide. When Hagrid called through the door and Remus gave no answer the half giant peaked outside, the door creaking loudly.

"Harry?" Hagrid said to the night, Fang slid past Hagrid and bounded outside, "Oy!" Hagrid said throwing the door open, "get back here yeh' great oaf! Don't cher' know Sirius Black is on the loose!"

Hagrid bounded out after his beloved pet and Remus slipped into the open door. Drawing the map from his pocket Remus found the tiny dot just feet away from himself. Looking around he saw nothing, but on closer inspection he spotted a worm like tail, sitting very still under one of the tarnished cabinet doors near the sink. Creeping across the creaky floor with extreme delicacy, Remus only made one small sound as he knelt near the sleeping rat. There on its paw was an absence in limb. Blood pulsing in his ears Remus smacked both hands over the rat, wincing as it screeched.

For a moment Remus thought he might drop him, the rat sunk his teeth in its captors fingers repeatedly. Stumbling out the front door Remus jerked up the cage with one hand and held up a tightly squeezed rat in the other. Its beady eyes bulged as Remus shoved him through the tiny cage door. Dropping him so his hand could shoot out, bleeding and aching, it slammed the cage door shut with a little click. Remus lifted the cage with a deep breath, hardly daring to believe his own eyes.

After a long moment where they stared at each other, Remus said quietly, "Hello old friend."

"Who's there?" Hagrid shouted, suddenly feet from Remus and having heard him.

Remus undid the charm with his wand and smiled brightly at Hagrid. He knew he should muster some shame at being caught outside the half giant's hut very late at night and with seemingly no good reason. Hagrid stared at him bewildered, Fang trotting back into the house with one 'you're welcome' glance at his werewolf friend. Remus patted him as he passed, tucking the cage under arm as the rat began to squeak fervently.

"Ah Hagrid, sorry about that, you can never be too safe these days," Remus said sheepishly.

"It's exactly what I was just tellin' Fang," Hagrid said, closing the distance between them and squinting at Remus in the dark, "what do yer got there Remus?"

"A little rat," Remus said, failing at hiding the contempt in his voice as he glanced at the tiny animal going berserk within the bars.

" Was' wrong with em'?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Remus muttered darkly before looking up at Hagrid, "I came to ask if you'd heard of Dumbledore?"

"Not today sorry ter say, though he was saying something about some ministry work for Fudge just last week and I'm beginning ter' think thas' where he must be. Why Minerva doesn't even know where he's gone," Hagrid said thoughtfully, he looked suddenly solemn, "he might be trying ter' work out somethin' fer Buckbeak for me."

"I am sorry about that Hagrid, very sorry," Remus could feel little rat claws digging at his robes through the bars of the cage, rather ineffectively. "I'll stop by tomorrow and we'll have some brandy, if it's alright with you I'm in a bit of a rush."

"Oh no it's fine, if yer to see Harry and his lot tell em' not ter risk any trips after classes."

"Alright, will do Hagrid," Remus said before bowing away from the grounds keeper and half running back to the castle. He couldn't believe his luck.

Just outside of his office Remus literally almost ran into a tall wizard in dark purple regal looking robes. Half crescent moons smiled at Remus as he straightened and caught the curious twinkle of his old headmaster's eyes. Nervously he considered the man in return.

"Hello Remus my dear boy, Minerva said you were looking for me and that it seemed important," his blue eyes traveled swiftly to the cage swept under Remus' arm, "is that a pet? I've always fancied one myself, but Aberforth wouldn't allow it."

"Oh no Albus I…" Remus caught his breath. His chest puffed out as he held it and stared down at the tiny cage, years of secrets at the tip of his tongue before he glanced back to the headmaster. Blue eyes held his in a reassuring way and Remus said, "- we should sit down for this."

"Very well," the headmaster said, opening the door to Remus' office, "After you Remus."

After nearly an hour of Remus revisiting his school years, he took a deep breathing. Sitting before the headmaster and rushing out an alibi with the guiltiness of someone responsible for the worst crime ever commited, in a shifty eyed tirade he couldn't stop, he found he was rather exhausted. The Headmaster considered him in a guarded way over the top of his half moon spectacles; Remus was afraid to process what he seen in those few passing moments. Disappointment, regret? Swallowing he put his face in his hands, irritation flaring for a moment as Peter began to squeak indignantly again.

"I'm sorry sir," Remus said, dropped his hands to his lap and lowering his head. "We never should have done it."

"I for one think it very brilliant of the four of you and nothing short of what I would have expected," Remus looked up sharply, staring in disbelief at the Headmaster's smile, "Why are you so upset Remus? If this rat is indeed Peter Pettigrew, you will clear your old friend's name."

"You believe me?"

"Why of course I do," Dumbledore said brightly, he clapped his hands together and glanced around the office, "We should send for Severus first, some veritaserum should work," he drew his wand, producing a silvery patronus and directing it before standing up and performing a few silent spells. Remus watching, assuming they would help to trap Peter.

"What will come of Sirius?"

"He must be nearby if his intention has been to capture Pettigrew all along," Dumbledore finished and then bent low to look at the cage, he murmured, "in a moment dear friend, we shall see," he straightened again. Remus watched in an abject way as the rat seemed to shiver.

"Headmaster," Snape said silkily once he'd arrived, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Did you have any?"

"Of course," Snape sneered, eyes locking onto Remus and then to the rat with detest, "a fitting pet," he said snidely.

Dumbledore explained everything before Remus could act on his pent up energy and say something he regretted. After an abbreviated version of Remus' tale, Snape seemed to accept it for truth. Grudgingly he complied with Dumbledore's request to question Peter. All three of them freed the rat, changing him from the second he tried to scamper away hopelessly. There on Remus' desk sat a plump little man with beady eyes and unkempt balding hair.

"P-p-p-please," Peter shrieked so loudly Remus and Snape cringed.

"Unless you have a very good reason Mr. Pettigrew, why you chose to play the part of a dead man for so long, I'm afraid we have no other option," Dumbledore answered sadly.

"I'm innocent," he burst, "you have to believe me Remus old friend! He's come to murder me!"

Remus stepped away, revolted as Peter slid off the desk and onto his knees before the werewolf. Remus swallowed, "what about twelve years ago, when Sirius was imprisoned for life? He wasn't trying to kill you then?"

"You don't understand," he howled.

It went on like that until Snape had the sense to override Dumbledore's and Lupin's compassion. Remus already on edge, with only Snape's urging, helped to drag the quivering man into a chair and force the vile of potion down his throat. An hour of questioning confirmed everything Remus had said and believed to be true.

"What should we do Professor?" Snape asked first, staring down his long hooked nose at Peter in a disgusted way.

"Alert Cornelius for me, tell him it is of utmost importance, and that is has everything to do with Sirius Black," Dumbledore said urgently.

Snape nodded and brushed out of the office in a whirlwind of black billowing robes. Dumbledore forced Peter back into his rat animagus form and carefully set the listless animal back into its pin. Remus watched fearful to look away, only when he realized Dumbledore was watching him did he sit down tiredly in his desk chair.

Face back into his hands he rubbed at his forehead, "will Fudge free Sirius?"

"I will see to it Remus I swear."

Remus took a deep breath, feeling twenty times his age he asked, "He was in Azkaban for twelve years…"

"There is that," Dumbledore had sat down, "he will never be the same, and it will take time."

Remus inhaled sharply and glanced up at the headmaster, "I've just thought," Remus' eyes flicked to the map, still open on his desk from where he'd dropped it upon showing it to Dumbledore. Harry's dot sat motionless in the boy's dorm, Dumbledore sensed his worry.

"Yes, there will be that as well, for now I think it better to keep Harry in the dark."

"When his name is cleared, he'll want Harry."

Dumbledore's looked weary as he answered, "Which is why it is better for the both of them that they are not discussed to each other."

"But why – "

"I had very much hoped to keep this to myself for much longer, but as things have changed I will now require your help in detouring Mr. Black," Dumbledore was giving him a severe look as Remus listened wearily. Dumbledore's chin angled up slightly, he surveyed Remus through his half moon spectacles, "No one must know this Remus, nor can I tell you to the full extent of how or why it is." When Remus nodded Dumbledore continued. "The night Voldemort set out to murder your friends and their son he intended fully upon murdering baby Harry; do you know why Harry is alive even now?"

"No sir."

"Lily Potter sacrificed herself for her son, and in doing so she invoked a very ancient magic. This magic has offered Harry much, but most importantly it has offered him the safest protection we can guarantee him so long as he calls her sister's house home."

"I'm sorry, but I don't exactly follow," it might have been the events of the night or the late hour, but Remus could not process what Dumbledore was telling him.

"Harry has his mother's protection in his blood, and he remains protected in Lily's sister's blood. He must continue to live with her, because while he stays there no harm can come of him. It is safer, even more so then the fidelius charm."

"The curse rebounded because of Lily's sacrifice?" Remus tried to understand.

"Precisely," Dumbledore nodded once.

Remus swallowed, trying to imagine what his friend's reaction would be once he knew he could not take his godson. He knew immediately, even after years of being apart from Sirius, what it would be. If Sirius had broken out of wizard prison to protect Harry, he certainly already had Harry in mind. Dumbledore watched him as he thought, Remus knew the answer he wanted, but did not know if he could give it in good conscious. Things would be difficult for a while, and Remus knew that would detail rebuilding a relationship with his old friend; keeping things from him didn't seem a good way to start out. In the same moment he could see Dumbledore's angle, and the warning Dumbledore had given previously came back. It would take months for Sirius to come around from his long stint in Azkaban, and Harry was indefinitely better off away from that. Sirius would be livid with Remus for helping Dumbledore, but Harry was safe, and that would be what James would want.

"Okay," Remus breathed nervously.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. Once Fudge arrived with Aurors in tow Peter had been rigorously questioned. As Veritaserum eventually wore off and could not be used for trial anyway he was taken into custody. As an unregistered animagus he was already under a minimum sentence of three years in Azkaban; faking your death wasn't exactly legal either. In a glass cage he was taken to the ministry to have a trial. It was a week before Remus heard anything of it, and a fortnight before the trial had been scheduled.

"They will try you," Dumbledore said, pacing back and forth in his office as Remus sat to his desk, "have you seen him on the map at all?"

"He appears sometimes near the forest, but it's brief, almost like he's communicating with something."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Have you tried to catch him?"

"Of course sir," Remus said, nearly affronted.

"Very well, as I was saying, they will expect you to try. I'm not sure it will hold for much with your ah," Dumbledore sighed, "status."

Remus brush past the uncomfortable topic, "Sirius will get in trouble too…"

"He'll received a pardon, I will see to it – twelve years in Azkaban should allot the poor man something should it not?"

Remus grinned tiredly; the trial had taken a lot out of him, "Have you spoken with Peter?"

"He still plans to plead innocent, but they have taken his wand; they will have regurgitated the spells already, and it will be obvious," Dumbledore said carefully, pausing in his pacing to marvel at his phoenix absently. "Sirius will need to plead his side as well; it should be easy as he was not given fair trial previously. They will check Pettigrew's arm as well, I am certain."

"Is there anything else for it?"

"What you have to say and I'm afraid that is all, as the rest of those you said had witnessed the transformation are dead," Dumbledore replied lightly.

Dorcas Meadows, Marlene McKinnon, James and Lily themselves, even Alice was not in her right mind to vouch on her friend's behalf. Remus sincerely hoped that the ministry would have its wits for once. Even more so he hoped to find Sirius before things became more complicated.

With exams approaching Remus found himself swamped in grading. Fifth, sixth, and seventh years he found the most tiring, the amount of review necessary for their rigorous testing, also requiring rigorous grading on his behalf. Preparing for the other exams he would administer where easy. He marveled at his own brilliance, shaking his head with a grin at himself as he sat down to his desk. He tried to imagine that he would have taught had being a werewolf never interfered with the entire process. Dumbledore found him that way, turning over what if's one after the other.

"You must be busy."

Remus glanced around the papers scattered across his desk with a frown, "Just worried."

"I hardly here complaints of your students, in fact I think you must be the new residential favorite. I believe Minerva is rather jealous."

Remus grinned, his cheeks warming, "not about that."

"Ah, I'll just sit down for a spot then," Dumbledore sat down and waved his wand so the tea set itself.

"It's too good to be true."

"It must seem so," Dumbledore said smiling, his blue eyes twinkling, "you are welcome to stay here as long as you'd like Remus. I am almost angry with myself that I did not think to hire you sooner."

"Even if his name is cleared, there will be many who won't believe it."

"I can tell something else is bothering you."

Remus inhaled, frowning to himself as the Headmaster's insightfulness, "I have the feeling Harry will be upset with me, for not having told him my relationship with his father and mother. Of course I've let on that I've known them, but he doesn't know how well," his amber eyes flicked to the old parchment folded up on the corner of his desk, willing away the sting of old memories as they tried to surface.

"The thing about Harry is that he is a very amazing young boy," Dumbledore smiled proudly, "You have already done a great deal for him this year, of which I am sure he is very grateful. You do not have a thing to worry for Remus; Harry will respect your distance."

"I never visited him."

"It isn't to say you didn't think on him," Dumbledore said softly, "when certain things come to light I'm sure he will understand."

"And then there's that…"

"This is James' and Lily's son," Dumbledore smiled humorously, "Are you truly so worried?"

Remus thought about it, he sighed, "I can't believe it," he said quietly.

"You will see in time."

With the quidditch final around the corner the student's seemed to draw into themselves, their studies, or quidditch. Remus found his evenings free of the occasional troublesome student; he was happy to not have to administer one detention the entire week. The day after Peter's trial found Remus in the best mood he could remember ever having been in; so he could have given away a few detentions, but he'd chosen to bypass the student's bad behavior regardless.

In one week Peter's story would be printed into the prophet and Remus knew he must address Harry. The morning after the Gryffindor's won the quidditch cup Remus found him lounging on the grounds with his friends; Hermione was bent entirely into her book, and Ron and Harry looked to be trying for the lives of themselves. They all looked around as he paused near the beech tree; he had to shake himself from the many times he'd sat there himself with his friends, with Harry's father and godfather. With Peter who was to receive the dementors kiss in a fortnight.

"Could I borrow Harry, if you don't mind Harry?" Remus asked.

The warm breeze permeated his robes as he traveled with Harry across the grounds, nervously aware of student's watching them from afar. Harry seemed both relieved and anxious in one; he kept glancing toward the beech tree where Ron and Hermione had their heads bent. Remus sought his courage out, pausing when he found it. Just at the edge of the forbidden forest Harry stopped near him.

"I haven't been entirely truthful with you Harry."

Harry looked surprised, "Sorry Professor?"

Remus swallowed and stared into the forest, unable to meet the green eyes of his dead close friend; he spoke quietly, "when you asked me if I knew your parent's, I should not have only told you I had." His frown dipped further down, "I knew them very well."

"You did?" Remus heard the note of eagerness, hopefulness in Harry's voice; it was something akin to Harry's determination to learn his patronus.

Remus looked at him, his emerald eyes were rounded in anticipation as Remus said "Your father was my close friend, one of three." Something changed in Harry's features that Remus could not place; he didn't have to wonder for long as Harry spoke abruptly.

"With Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew too," Harry toned bitterly.

"I take it you know."

Harry looked away, a brooding much akin to James' in his features, "yeah I know."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked; the teenager caught his eye in a daring way.

"I was scared."

"But why," Harry pressed.

"Would you not wonder why I hadn't come to visit you, all of these years?"

Harry frowned, he didn't answer for a long minute, "Is that all?" he asked.

"It is selfish of me, but I didn't want to have to think on them often," Remus smiled sadly. "You already remind me of them so very much."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Things have changed," Remus said, brushing straw colored hair from his eyes momentarily, "it'll be all over the prophet in a week's time, and I thought you ought to know first." When Harry didn't interrupt him Remus continued, "Sirius Black is innocent, he was framed by Peter Pettigrew."

"How," Harry asked, a flash of anger darkening his emerald eyes, disbelief etching into his features.

"Peter Pettigrew faked his death, and I wouldn't have known until you told me about the map. I found him and caught him; he's in ministry custody."

"You know how to work the map?"

Remus' lips quirked, but he his grin, "I made the map Harry; we all did. Your father, Sirius, Peter Pettigrew and me," Remus felt his cheeks warm at the look of awe in Harry's eyes and gaping mouth.

"You're Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs?"

"Yes," Remus said, it had been a long time since he'd been addressed as Moony, a resounding pang settled in his hurting chest, "The ministry has found him guilty for framing Sirius and murdering that street of muggles."

"How can they be sure?"

"They'll have their ways," Remus wasn't keen on explaining to Harry the truth or the fact that he was a werewolf. The details in the prophet would be minimal, only informing the public that Peter had hid in his nondescript animagus form for years.

"Thank you for telling me Professor," Harry seemed truly thankful at being informed.

"I hope that you accept my apology," Remus said guiltily, shifting from one foot to the other.

"I do, but I have a question sir?"

Remus didn't like the eager way Harry was considering him, "Yes?"

"What does it mean – Sirius Black being my godfather and all? Is he free now?"

"I'm not sure yet, but it is my understanding that you will remain with your Aunt and Uncle." Remus didn't like the way Harry looked suddenly solemn, "You should probably return to your review, I'm positive Miss Granger will be at the end of her patients soon."

Harry slinked away from him with an unreadable expression. Remus watched after him, pleased and relieved that Dumbledore's reassurances had been true. Harry didn't seem upset with him at all. As his problems lessoned Remus began to focus more on his missing friend. He hoped more than anything Sirius would surface as the papers came out, announcing the repeal of his sentence. While Sirius was still due for trial he would no longer receive the dementor's kiss. Remus let out a breath he'd been holding, realizing his relief at his luck; Sirius was going to be free, Peter was in custody, and Harry was safe. James could rest easy knowing his son would be sneaking around the castle again sometime soon; if only Remus could find a way to give the map back without going against his duty as a teacher. Then again, he'd never been so great about following rules, no matter how much he'd tried to pin it on his friends. Friends; he'd been without them for years, the idea of having just one back was more then he could have ever hoped for.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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><p>Harry Potter was no stranger to playing the part of prisoner every summer at Number four Privet Drive. After reluctantly leaving his friends for the summer holidays he'd been subjected to the familiar treatment of his relatives. It didn't help that the year previous he'd managed to blow up his Aunt and then run away from home before his Uncle could properly punish him. Vernon Dursley hadn't forgotten either; reuniting with the beefy man hadn't been a pleasant experience, not that Harry had had many where the Dursleys were involved.<p>

Their contempt for him mostly stemmed from the fact that he was a wizard, and not just any such one. Harry had been dropped on their doorstep at the age of one after surviving a killing curse, one fired by the most dangerous dark wizard of all time. Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents and was the sole reason why the Dursleys were forced to put up with the scrawny teenager for two months come every July. Their aversion to all things unnatural also worked against Harry, and was cause come to affect his adolescent mood swings.

Although Harry's summer had started off, for once, free of any end of term drama, it was bound to end in misery. With his school things locked in the cupboard under the stairs he had no way of doing his school work. Just two weeks into the summer holidays he was still waiting for the Dursleys to leave him alone. Unfortunately Dudley, their only child, had recently been placed on a strict regimen of diet and exercise, and so Harry was doomed to most of the same. Subjected to many of Dudley's tantrums, half of Dudley's small food portions, and Vernon Dursley's subsequent fits of rage, Harry was growing increasingly exhausted at the idea of leaving his room. There might have been a silver lining in corresponding with his friends, but Harry was not allowed to write them; like the summer previous his Uncle Vernon only allowed Harry to release Hedwig at night, and only with the promise that he not write letters to his friends.

With not even a book to entertain himself Harry spent most nights in his room. The first few days he'd ventured out, Dudley had decided to take his new found hatred out on Harry; jealously Harry guessed, even though Harry found himself suffering from Dudley's punishment as much as a child Dudley's size was. Harry was starving; his persevering hope was that the Weasleys would come to rescue him soon. His Uncle was on the last of his patience, and Harry was positive he would soon not only be at the resolve of his cousin's tantrums, but also his Uncle's. Once or twice he'd considered grabbing his things and flagging down the knight bus, but often his wistful dreaming of spending half his summer at the Leaky Cauldron again would end only in reason. Harry wasn't sure how much trouble he'd be in if he went into muggle London again, resignedly he spent most days in the sweltering heat of his bedroom.

It was just over two weeks into the summer when Dudley decided to throw his largest tantrum yet. The floors and walls of Harry's room shook as he banged around downstairs. Harry could make out every shouted word clearly, as if Dudley was only feet away from him and not just an entire floor. There were brief spaces where Harry imagined his aunt attempted reason with the distraught boy, but Harry could not make out her voice or even hear the panicked sound of it. Sighing to himself he returned to a puzzle he'd dredged out of a pile of Dudley's old toys. Hedwig hooted in a sympathetic way and Harry offered her a humorless smile. Elbow propped on his desk he entertained himself with a glance out his window to the well kept lawns of Number four, eyeing the sprinklers with a deep desire.

A rumble sounded in the far off distance, much akin to thunder though the sky was a cloudless blue. Harry sat forward, curious at the sound that dared eclipse his cousin's shouting. He only glanced away from the empty street when a crash sounded downstairs, and then several more. Stomach flipping in preparation for the dual shouting about to wrack the entire house; Harry stood up from his desk. He was parched and already preparing to miss his dinner, which probably wouldn't be much of a dinner at all; he padded out of his room and down the hallway to the bathroom. With the door open he could hear the shouting perfectly now. Grabbing a paper cup used for rinsing, he filled it with cool water from the sink and tipped it back in a large gulping swig. As he crumpled it up and tossed it into the bin a heavy banging came from the front door below. Thinking nothing of it, and partially fearing for the life of whoever dare come across the Dursleys in a fit of anger, Harry returned to his bedroom. Flopping onto his bed he piqued his ear from voices below; the shouting had stopped.

It wasn't long before Harry's aunt was hovering in his bedroom door; Harry sat up off his bed at the unreadable look in her features. Bony white gave way to the pink of her ears and the black of her unforgiving stare. Her eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms around her middle and surveyed him with contempt.

"You have a visitor."

Harry didn't dare give way to hope, "Who is it?"

"I don't know," she said snappishly. "One of your kind surely," she hissed eyes narrowing, "You should think again if you truly expect Vernon and I to allow such things. Tell this man to leave immediately."

"Why don't you?" Harry croaked wearily, standing up from his bed; his Aunt was much less frightening then his Uncle.

"He insists upon seeing you," she stared down her nose at him, "How disrespectful, coming to call without not so much as a simple warning. I will not stand for it."

Harry slipped past her, aware she was following him as he took the stairs. Harry didn't look up until he stepped from the bottom most step. Emerald eyes rounding, Harry considered his godfather for the first time in his life. Although marginally different from the photograph postings all over the muggle and wizard news for nearly a year, Harry knew him immediately. He could not find anything immediately in his memory, but Sirius Black partly resembled the man in Harry's photo album. The smile that split his face made him appear several years younger, his eyes crinkled at the corners while they considered him with reassuring warmth. Harry looked around at his aunt to gauge her feeling toward him; she didn't look at all pleased to have an ex convict on her doorstep. Harry wondered idly if she recognized him. His cropped hair, clean shaven features, and fuller face did no justice to his appearance the year before. It looked like the man had had several square meals Harry desperately needed.

"Hello," he said maybe nervously, there was uneasiness about him all apart from the confident set of his shoulders, tipped back almost arrogantly. Hands in the pockets of his muggle jeans, he offered Harry the same smile as he spoke again, "I don't know if you know Harry, but I'm Sirius – Sirius Black," he finished as an afterthought.

Harry held onto the railing of the staircase, "You're my godfather," Harry said, nodding once after a moment.

"I was actually hoping you weren't doing anything today; I thought about writing, but I wasn't sure that you were allowed owl post. Would you like to go out to lunch with me?"

Harry looked around at his Aunt to see if it was alright, she looked hesitant, she angled her chin upward considering the man, "I would rather he not," she said briskly.

"I think it in your better interest to reconsider," Sirius said with a tiny smirk of warning, eyeing the woman with a firm look.

Petunia's lips disappeared and her cheeks pinked at being threatened, "Very well, but you are to have him home before my Husband returns from work, and you are never to return to my household."

Sirius arched an eyebrow and then glanced at Harry, "Alright?"

"Okay," Harry said smiling nervously.

Harry followed Black out onto the front lawn, a nervous pounding sounding in his ears until surprise made him stop in his footsteps. There in the Dursleys driveway was a large gleaming motorbike. Sirius smirked at him, tossing Harry a helmet he nearly fumbled.

"Hope you don't mind…" Sirius said, throwing a leg over the bike and gripping the handles.

"No," Harry said excitedly, he'd never ridden a motorbike before.

Riding on the back of the bike and hugging a man he'd never met had at first been admittedly awkward. Sirius' shoulder length hair would hit Harry in the face at the rush of the wind, so he'd had to turn his head sideways and watch the neat lawns of Privet Drive as they turned into road way. It was exhilarating Harry decided the longer time passed; no longer did the sweltering heat bead in balls of sweat at the back of his neck. The refreshing whoosh of the wind awakened him.

"Hold on," Sirius said as they turned onto a dirt crusted back road. Harry had almost shouted a why, but as Sirius' shoulder jerked forward, his hand jamming a button on the dash, the bike tipped upward and then to Harry's astonishment they were flying. The trees fell away around them as they gained height. Sirius gave a whoop of enthrallment that Harry repeated; laughing at the rumbling laugh he felt through Sirius' shaking back. It wasn't long before they were descending again, the bike wheel smacking smooth pavement in a barely jarring way. Sirius turned onto a busy road, weaving between a few vehicles, a little recklessly Harry thought, and then revving the engine with a burst of speed. Sirens flared behind them, Harry thought he heard Sirius swear as they both glanced over their shoulder. His godfather turned off the road as the cop pulled up behind them.

"Hello officer," Sirius said while Harry sat back on the bite, gripping the seat behind him.

"Where's your helmet?"

"Don't need one."

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

"I'd assume too fast," he said with a little grin; Harry glanced at the police offer, assuming right that he was not amused at all with Sirius' joking.

"Can I get your name sir?"

"Sirius Black," Sirius said; something of a private joke dancing with the mirth in his light grey eyes.

"I'm going to need to see your license and registration," the cop said frowning, disbelief etched into his features; Harry thought then that Sirius' name wasn't exactly common.

"I don't have any."

"….you don't have any," The cop said in pronounced disbelief and irritation, his eyes flicked to Harry, "You do realize how much trouble you're in?"

"Sirius trouble," Sirius said to Harry's burgeoning surprise. Harry hid his smile with his surprise; he wondered privately how Sirius planned to remedy the situation; he was smirking so widely Harry was sure he must have a plan.

"Alright, step off the bike please," the cop said standing back, the roar of traffic behind him.

"If you insist," Sirius said. Harry leapt off the bike before Sirius did, noticing Sirius draw his wand from his belt loop and hold it discretely at his side.

Harry looked up at the cop to see if he'd noticed, but the cop looked completely unaware, in fact the cop looked utterly surprised suddenly, and not entirely cognizant of the situation. His eyes glazed in confusion as he glanced around and then back to a grinning Sirius. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"I'm sorry, I've seemingly forgotten myself," the cop said brusquely.

Sirius shrugged, "it's alright, it happens to the best of us."

"What was I saying?"

"You pulled me over, because I didn't have any plates; I was just telling you it's a new purchase."

"Right well," the cop said suddenly serious, "make sure to get those soon enough, and you should be wearing a helmet son."

"Thanks officer."

Harry smiled up at Sirius who winked as soon as the officer's back had turned. Sirius drove carefully after that, pulling up to the dirt gravel of a diner and kicking out the kickstand of his bike while Harry climbed off it. Handing the helmet back to Sirius Harry looked around; they were seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"I ate here with your father once," Sirius explained, hooking the helmet on his handlebars. He started to walk toward the side entrance, only pausing when he realized Harry hadn't followed, "Coming?"

Harry swallowed, and then nodded; Sirius smiled and held open the door for Harry who stopped upon entering, "Where do you want to sit?" Sirius asked from behind him.

"I don't mind," Harry said; Sirius hesitated and then led Harry to a corner booth, partially secluded.

The waitress took their order before bustling away; it had been a long one. When Harry had ordered the cheapest thing Sirius had ordered practically everything else on the menu to make up for it. He found himself under the scrutiny of his godfather following.

"I'm freed of all charges," Sirius said, shifting in his feet, he looked suddenly nervous. "I suppose you have a lot of questions for me?"

Harry did, but he held his tongue until he could organize them into something polite, exhaling some nerves he frowned at his plate, "I don't understand what happened? Professor Lupin told me you were innocent; I'm sorry, but I don't understand how."

Sirius seemed to be trying to catch his eye, "You've heard of the story by now, I presume? How your parent's had gone into hiding," there was a gentle probing in his voice that relaxed the nerves in Harry's stomach.

"Yeah," he said, catching the grey of Sirius' eye before looking away.

"Your father, James – he asked me to be secret keeper, but I tried at being clever, as I often did when I was young." Harry glanced up at Sirius while he seemed to transition into a story telling type of voice, a haunted look had overtaken his haughty features, and Harry thought he seen the man from Azkaban there. His cheeks sunk in as he swallowed and his eyes refocused, "Someone was passing information about them, and we couldn't be sure of the traitor. They had to go into hiding to be safe, but they needed a secret keeper; it was no secret I was James' best friend either. Everyone would assume it was me or the traitor would at least, that's what we believed. I thought I could play decoy while our friend Peter performed the charm."

"Peter ended up being the traitor," Harry stated, but he couldn't yet see how Sirius was innocent.

"I went to check on him that night, to make sure he was safe in his hiding place. When I arrived he wasn't home; there was no sign of a struggle. Something was obviously wrong, and so my next worry was you and your parents." Sirius took a shaky breath, "when I arrived to Godric's Hallow the house was destroyed; your parent's were – dead," he said with some difficulty. "I was angry, and at the same time I was to blame. I pressed the switch, and James trusted me. I knew I would be blamed for their murder unless I caught Peter; I also knew I wanted to murder him," Sirius said bluntly. "When I found him I chased him into a crowded street, he shouted for everyone to hear how I'd murdered them. I drew my wand, but before I could catch him he blew up the street behind him with his wand behind his back. He cut off his finger and turned into a rat and sped right into the sewers. He was unregistered, no one could have known. You have to believe me Harry," piercing grey eyes suddenly held Harry's, "I never would have betrayed Lily and James; your father was the best man I ever knew, he was my best friend."

A surge of pity shot through Harry, gripping him until he released a breath, "I believe you," Harry said firmly.

Sirius' shoulders relaxed, "you look very much like him," Sirius said quietly, the haunted look fading away in his features, to be replaced with a remorseful dulling of his bright eyes, "except for your eyes – "

"I have my mother's eyes," Harry finished mechanically, Sirius grinned.

"I suppose people tell you that a lot?"

"More times than I can remember," Harry said to Sirius' bark like laugh; it warmed Harry, though he couldn't say why.

When he quieted he said, "I didn't only wish to talk with you today Harry, I wanted to ask you something."

"Alright," Harry said, smiling up at the waitress in thanks as she deposited two lemonades on their table.

Sirius looked nervous again, Harry had the feeling he didn't feel so often. It didn't look right against the man's dark features, a dormant arrogance remained there, something Harry might have imagined from the younger Sirius he remember from his photo album. Sirius took a breath, cutting across Harry's thoughts as he spoke.

"Your parent's intended for me to have custody if anything were to happen to them, I promised them I'd look after you." Harry's heart clenched as Sirius continued, "Well, as I've been in Azkaban I haven't been doing a great job," he frowned; Harry's heart had burst into an uneven skittering, "but I was hoping to make up for it now. I was wondering if you – if you wanted to come live with me?"

"Are you kidding?" Harry released, his voice raised.

Sirius winced, "Well I understand if you want to – "

"No! I'd love too," Harry said, seeing the misunderstanding in the disappointment clearly etching into his Godfather's features.

Sirius' goofy grin was infectious, "Really?"

"And leave the Dursleys? Absolutely," Harry said, sitting up in his seat, "When?"

"Well I've got a house," Sirius scoffed, eyes darting away, "but I'm having some difficulty with custody."

"What do you mean?" Harry said, heart hammering in his ears

"I haven't been allowed yet – in fact," Sirius said in a shameless way, "I wasn't even supposed to come visit you."

"What?" Harry asked surprised, his brain tried to work around why or who had banned Sirius from seeing him; something tugged at his memory, a hesitance in his old Professor. His momentary hope had returned from that moment, pitting in his stomach ready to be overtaken by disappointment.

"Dumbledore – the old fool – says I haven't got any right, but I've got plenty. If you say you want to live with me, he hasn't got any right there," Sirius grinned. "See he didn't want you to know the option was available, but I want you to live with me Harry."

"Who do I talk to?" For once Harry didn't care for whatever Dumbledore wanted; the idea of leaving the Dursleys forever was the most inviting he'd ever heard in his entire life.

"Well I have to go through the Wizengamot, and it'll be tricky as I've just spent twelve years in Azkaban. They seem to think I'm brain addled," Sirius rolled his grey eyes around. "At least I'm sure Dumbledore is feeding them that in his better interests."

"But why doesn't Dumbledore want me to live with you?"

Sirius looked uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even guilty, and then he said "He doesn't think I can offer you the protection you need, being the boy-who-lived and all," Sirius snorted.

Harry smiled at Sirius' indifference toward the title; his affection for his godfather, for a man he'd just met, was intensifying by the minute. "Well that shouldn't be a problem; it isn't like the Dursleys are protecting me."

"Yeah," Sirius said, his eyes shifting away; Harry wrote of the look as his own paranoia. Sirius sighed, "anyway, he won't be happy with me," Sirius frowned, "but he rarely ever was."

"Why can't we just do that – Fedelia-thing?" Harry asked.

"We will," Sirius said firmly, "I promise Harry, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the sudden conviction in his godfather's eyes. He was relieved at the distraction their food brought. Harry finished his sandwich and accepted more food as Sirius pushed it toward him. Sirius ate slowly, and Harry felt he was watching him closely. He tried not to eat so ravenously, but there was more food on the table then he'd seen the entire summer. Harry only stopped eating once he felt ill, the waist of his pants cut into his stomach until he sat back in his chair, dropping his fork with a clatter that made him wince. Sirius had finished eating eons ago and was currently tinkering with something in the moleskin pouch attached to his hip.

"I don't understand muggle money very well I'm afraid, it's been a long time I've not had to worry about it," he dumped some onto the table, watching pleased as Harry sorted through it to pay the bill and leave a decent tip.

"You said Peter Pettigrew was a rat?" Harry said after a while of comfortable silence in which Harry began to imagine Sirius and his father at school with Professor Lupin, making the Marauder's map. Something pulled at his curiosity as he caught the nod of his godfather, "is that why his nickname was Wormtail?"

"Ah, Remus said you had the map," Sirius grinned in reminiscence, "Yes."

"But why were you, my father and Remus Prongs, Moony and Padfoot?" Harry asked clueless.

"You'll know if you ever look me up, especially since the ministry's made me register, but I'm an animagus as well," Sirius said, he answered before Harry could ask, "I change into a dog – "

"A grim," Harry shot, his eyes rounding in realization.

"Yes," Sirius said smiling, "it was me you seen last year in Magnolia Cresent; I had to see you before I set off for Peter. I've very sorry for startling you as I did."

"And at my match…?"

"Yes," Sirius' grin widened, "You fly well, better than your father; James is surely turning in his grave at the words."

Harry grinned proudly, "Really?"

"Truthfully," Sirius winked.

Harry thought for a moment, "but why did you wait so long?"

Sirius inhaled, his nostrils flaring as he glanced away, "I found out Pettigrew was near you, you had to know Harry that I'd hardly thought on you in twelve years. Azkaban makes you relive your worse memories, and I'm afraid the worst I have of you is the time you went missing for four hours because you'd decided to crawl under the sink in the toilet." He shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips, "Lily had known where you'd been; I'll admit I was erring on a nervous breakdown when they'd come home to find I'd lost their baby. Lily and James had a right laugh about it afterwards, I guess you were partial to the place; they put all your bath things down there and you were taken with all of the ducks."

Harry lapped up the stories about his parent's, he glad when Sirius redirected the topic however. Harry could have listened to him talk about his parent's forever, but he needed to know everything he could about his new godfather. Sirius sighed, "It wasn't a happy thought to know you were in trouble, so I held onto it. I became obsessed over it. It was the closest I came to losing my mind."

"Why didn't you lose your mind?"

"Even though I was weak I was still able to turn into a dog; the dementors do not have eyes, they sense through emotion. They could probably tell I'd changed, as an animal's emotion is much less, but they didn't understand. As a dog I was able to feel less, and there for keep my mind for longer when it became too much. I became so skinny I was able to slip past them when they opened my door to feed me one day. I swam to shore," he finished, looking exhausted at just the memory.

"But how did you know where Pettigrew was?"

"You were a curious baby as well, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Sirius laughed at the surprised look Harry gave him, "don't be offended, your parents were always into something or the other. James' curiosity got us into trouble more times than I care to remember."

"Anyway," Sirius said waving the topic away, "Fudge came around and he leant me his prophet," Harry remembered the story from the three broomsticks, "there he was on the front page, right on that red head's shoulder."

"Scabbers," Harry said anxiously, "Ron's rat – Ron's rat was Peter Pettigrew?"

"Ron had him for a long time, didn't he? The Weasley family was questioned about him, over twelve years he'd been in the family," Sirius' cheek jumped as his teeth came together and a dark look possessed his features, "I figured you must be the same age, you can't keep track in Azkaban, but I knew I had to do something. I'd promised Lily and James," he said desperately. "I would have murdered him too – had I found him."

A resounding silence followed the statement, broken only by Sirius' deep sigh as he settled back into the booth with the squeak of vinyl. Harry felt satisfied with Sirius' answers, so he settled instead on his worry that Sirius would not gain custody of him. At the very least Sirius was free, the logical part of him reasoned; it was too lucky Lupin had caught Pettigrew.

"Remus will probably be upset with me too – of course he's siding with Dumbledore," Sirius huffed, "today's the first day he's let me out of his sight. I should probably get back, and we promised your Aunt anyway."

"But when will I know – "

"Don't worry," Sirius said, eyes glinting mischievously, "it won't be long." 

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><p>AN: This story will alternate POV. I am in need a beta for both of my stories if anyone has any suggestions. The last chapter might have been rough, I only checked it over briefly; it was the baby of a sleepless night :) REVIEW please?<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
>AN: I normally don't update so fast, but when I've got a muse for something it just happens. I'm humbled by all of the reviews this story has gotten and also by the amount of you who have put me on your author alert list, thank you! As I've said, this story has not been written out in advance, so eventually the updates will slow down; I don't want you to be surprised when I make you wait a week or two for the next one. I love reviews!<p>

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><p>As Remus paced, the squeaky floors of the cottage filled the tiny home with noise. It did nothing to deter the werewolf's anxious worries however. In fact he continued to pace until the fire flared in the stone white grate, pausing then to glance out of the window with a tiny sigh. Night had fallen over the sea, not one person remained on the sandy beach beyond the little home. Sirius had been gone for an entire day and Remus had a good idea of where he'd gone. Amber eyes flicked up as Sirius dropped a load of bags on the table in a dramatic way, arching an eyebrow at Remus as his hands came back down to his side. He looked partially pleased that he'd gotten Remus' attention.<p>

"Where were you?"

"Don't worry," Sirius rolled his eyes, "I haven't gone to see Harry again."

Remus watched as his old friend began to pull things from the plastic and paper bagging. Food, books, magazines, sweets, fire whiskey. Sirius hummed an indistinct tune as he moved around the cottage, back and forth between the kitchen and the sitting room.

"You might want a drink of that," Sirius nodded toward the fire whiskey with a smirk, "you're looking rather peaked.

"Hacked off is more like it."

Sirius paused, "I didn't go see him; if I had he'd be here with us now."

"Dumbledore did you a favor by helping in clearing your name, you could at least respect…" Remus cringed as Sirius slammed one of the cupboard doors closed, he found himself adjusting again to Sirius' abrupt mood swings.

"I'm getting Harry on his birthday," Sirius said with finality, "rather Dumbledore decides to be secret keeper or not – which he will."

"You haven't even been granted custody yet," Remus tried to reason.

"If Harry speaks with the court – "

"Do you think that's right Sirius?" Remus asked, folding his arms.

Sirius looked indecisive for a blink, and then he leant heavily against the countertop, crossing one ankle over the over as he gripped it in a white knuckled vice, "You should see him – if James saw how thin he was – "

"He's safe there Sirius, with all of these rumors beginning to circulate – with Bertha Jorkins disappearing," Remus shook his head.

"Bertha Jorkins was particularly dull in school, I'm sure she's just forgotten herself somewhere," Sirius turned around and picked a dish up out of the sink, he seemed to be considering washing it, but then he tipped it back into the pile with a sigh, "We can keep him safe."

"The charm's failed before."

"Because Pettigrew was a traitor," Sirius spat suddenly angry again, a malicious look in his darkening stare, "We could even ask one of the Weasleys, you say Harry's close with them."

"I don't think Mrs. Weasley would approve – don't forget that half the world doesn't believe your story yet."

"I know thanks Lupin," Sirius said angrily, Remus winced as Sirius banged a cupboard open and grabbed a glass.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked wearily.

"I'm having a drink."

"You're going to pick Harry up hung over are you?"

Sirius froze, he glanced over his shoulder at Remus; one silver eye examined the werewolf "you're going to let me?"

"I don't think I could stop you if I tried," Remus sat down to the little tarnished table in a tired way. "Dumbledore must know as well; I don't know what he's expected, he is your godson."

Sirius' smile split his face in half, "Will you stay with us?"

"No," Remus said slowly, "I think not."

Sirius' smile faltered, "But why?"

"I hardly know him Sirius – "

"I don't know him at all!"

"It's different," Remus said shiftily.

"How – because of your furry little problem," Sirius said bluntly, "James never cared – "

"That's another thing Sirius," Remus said with a deep frown that etched into the lines of his scarred features, "he's not James."

"I never said he was," a glint of ire settled against grey.

"Can you handle this?" Remus asked quietly.

Sirius held his gaze, "James wouldn't have asked me if he didn't think I could handle it – "

"We were all very young, it was almost easier when Harry was a baby – he's going to be fourteen. It wasn't very long ago that we were fourteen ourselves."

"So you think I'm brain addled?"

"I never said that," Remus said tiredly.

"Well last time I checked I was thirty five and perfectly capable of taking care of a fourteen year old."

Remus looked like he very much wanted to argue something, but he kept his mouth shut and Sirius didn't press him. He finished putting things away, stopping his flurry of straightening in knocking a picture frame crooked. He stepped back from it, gave the large room a sweeping look, glanced back at the crooked frame, and smiled.

Remus watched him in resigned bemusement, "Harry wouldn't care if you lived in a boot."

"Come and see his room."

"Please tell me you haven't outdone yourself."

The short hallway ended in two doors, one across from the other. Sirius pressed open the one on the right, glancing first at the crashing waves in the distance of the many windows. The room was scarcely decorated, all except for a cluster of photos on the tall book shelf and the red and gold detailing around the wood paneling.

"I'm surprised at you."

Sirius grinned, "Think he'll like it?"

"I think you are barmy," Remus shook his head, hiding his smile.

Sirius crossed the room and sat to the tarnished desk, "What should I know about him?"

"I told you," Remus said, pausing in front of the photo collage, his chest constricting at the photo of four boys in their school uniforms. He picked it up as he spoke, "I just met him last year."

"Why didn't you visit him?" Sirius pressed.

Remus took a deep breath, "I couldn't Sirius, Merlin knows I tried."

"I would have, had it been the other way around."

Remus overlooked Sirius' ignorance as usual; he sat the photo down "Dumbledore will be around in the morning."

"I've passed my WOMBATs again, I took a competency test, they made me see one of those – mind healers; what more can he do or say?"

"He'll try to reason with you – "

"He can reason all he wants, if James and Lily knew how Harry was being treated at the Dursleys – "

"Sirius you don't even know how he's being treated at the Dursleys, for all you know he could love it there," Remus swallowed at his own outburst, he'd never liked to purposefully argue with his friends, and had nearly always tried to avoid it. Somehow, over the span of many years, he'd grown partly into his own; even still he was too cowardly to stop Sirius from doing what he agreed against.

Sirius gave him a lopsided frown, "No kid jumps at the opportunity to live with a stranger, especially an ex convict, I think that's proof enough. No thirteen year old is that scrawny, not especially James' kid – remember how much James used to eat?"

"You need to stop with that," Remus said wearily, "Harry and James are hardly alike."

"Well I wouldn't know; I haven't seen the kid in thirteen years."

Silence pressed in on the tiny bedroom, Sirius and Remus held each other's glare until Remus pressed his fringe from his eyes and considered Sirius with an aggravated sort of look, "Do you need custody of him yet? Just take him for the summer as Dumbledore has asked of you – if it doesn't work out he can go back to the Dursleys next year, and the protection will still work. This is too big of a risk to take, and Harry deserves the right thing. I want Harry to be happy as much as you do, you deserve the right to get to know him, but James and Lily sacrificed their lives for him. They may not be happy with how things have turned out, but Harry is safe, and that is the most important thing," he spoke with the patience's of someone who had lectured Sirius in reason many times before. "You can't jump into a relationship with him, like you know Harry; I assumed he'd be like James as well, but I was wrong. He's been through a lot Sirius, I spent months teaching him about patronuses and I can understand that much. I'll support you entirely if you go about this the right way around, but I don't agree with taking him from his home. I don't think Lily would like it very much either. This isn't just about Harry – you've just spent twelve years in Azkaban, you need time to heal too."

"I'm fine."

Remus' eyes flicked the deck beyond Harry's room, considering Sirius' blossoming drinking problem, "I hope you're doing this for the right reasons," he said with finality, "you'll never get James back," he finished with a murmur.

"I know," Sirius said with gritted teeth.

"I hope so."

Remus only spent the night as to keep an eye on the animagus. Sirius went to bed shortly after their row, only after banging around in the bathroom for a while. Remus knew if he'd left, Sirius would have had a long drink; he'd taken to his whiskey following Azkaban. Remus couldn't help feeling that Sirius somehow felt trapped, even though he was free. Under the watchful eye of his friend and Dumbledore Sirius had practically been under house arrest. After the day he'd gone to visit Harry they'd watched him so closely he'd began to revert to his old random outbursts of anger. They were worse somehow, than they'd always been. It seemed like without James around to talk him down, Sirius had begun to slowly turn toward a calming drink before bed. If Sirius didn't drink Remus would find him in the morning, in his dog form, curled up on his bed. Sirius had explained briefly it was his only relief to the nightmares Azkaban had plagued him with.

The werewolf hardly slept at all on the sofa sleeper. The lumpy mattress didn't help, and when the sun rose it filtered in through the many windows of the seaside cottage. Sirius bounded into the kitchen and began to make food at an alarming rate. Remus sat down to the scuffed up table as Sirius sat a heaping plate of eggs down in front of him. They didn't say anything while Sirius topped off their breakfast with everything left in his cupboards. The food sat over the table on piled plates as Sirius sat down to eat. He'd only just picked up his fork when the stone fire place glowed alight with a fire. Dumbledore unfolded himself from the dying flame, brushing soot from his nose and beard as he invited himself to the table.

"Help yourself," Sirius said around a mouthful of food.

Dumbledore smiled in a polite way, he surveyed Sirius over the rim of his half moon spectacles "I've actually come to inquire about your plans for the day."

"I'm going to get him," Sirius said firmly, setting his cutlery down, "rather you want to be secret keeper or not."

Dumbledore nodded once "Very well," he looked tired as he considered both Remus and Sirius, "We will perform the charm this morning, but only on these conditions."

Sirius considered the old wizard, "Fine," he finally said.

"You will only take Harry for the summer, and when the summer is finished Harry will decide what he wants to do," Dumbledore returned Sirius' smile, although Sirius' was arrogant and brightening and the Headmaster's was patient, "I will explain to Harry the safety his aunt's home offers, and then he will decide."

Sirius' smile drooped, he glanced at Remus who arched an eyebrow, nodding once, encouragingly. Sirius' jaw flexed as he glanced back at the headmaster. Teeth gritting, he nodded reluctantly.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, his smile continued where Sirius' hadn't, "I would suggest a glamour charm if you decide to wander the pier, and I would prefer you stay away from the wizard public. I understand it you have tickets for the World Cup?"

Sirius nodded, the ministry was scrambling to make up for his long stint in Azkaban; the gold in his vault had doubled, and so they'd begun with gifts. Sirius was eager to see the look on his godson's face when he showed him the pack of tickets he'd gotten for the top box. He didn't know much about Harry, but he knew the boy liked quidditch.

"Remus will go with you, and so will an Auror escort," Dumbledore raised his chin as Sirius opened him mouth to object, "the Weasleys also have tickets for the top box, so you do not need to worry about his friends."

"Anything else," Sirius half snapped at the old man.

"It is not my intention to be cruel Sirius," Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced grey, "Lily Potter sacrificed her life for this protection to hold, and were it my decision I would honor that wish."

Sirius didn't feel like going around the bend with Dumbledore again, so he held his tongue as the old man stood, "Shall we get to business?"

It didn't take longer than two hours for Dumbledore to perform the charm or increase the enchantments on the cottage. Remus noted that Sirius was beside himself by the time the old man left. He locked up the front door of the cottage and turned to Remus as he shoved the key deep into his pocket.

"Will you come?"

"I don't think so," Remus said, shifting to his other foot, "I should really start on my syllabus for next year."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Its one day mate, I'm sure Harry would be happy to have some company on his birthday."

"He'll have you."

"What about Uncle Moony?"

Remus' smile twitched at the old title, "I'm hardly Uncle Moony any longer."

"Do I need to chain you in silver and drag you along then?"

Remus' lip quirked, he shook his head, "maybe I'll come by later, you should settle in first."

"Oh alright," Sirius sighed, "see you?"

"Yes, and if you so much as flash any silver in my direction I'll be sure to put you out with the trash tonight, if I'm lucky the pound will come around and pick you up."

"Har har."

"You'd better warn Harry about the fleas."

Sirius waved his hand, "It isn't a problem, they've got these collars now…"

Remus eyebrows lifted in amusement, "Really?"

"If I'm not serious," Sirius winked and then apparated on the spot to the picture esque lane of Privet Drive.

Number Four loomed amongst many square lawns, several sprinklers soaking the grass to its death. Sirius stepped over the hedge, his second foot sailing through most of it with a tiny muttered 'oops'. He followed up with a stumbled sliding stomp through the muddying earth beneath the wet grass. He was wiping the earth on the door mat as Petunia Dursley peaked through the sitting room curtain. The door jerked open against the chain as she surveyed him.

"I told you to never return – "

"I've come to take Harry for the remainder of the summer."

The horsey woman hesitated and then undid the locks on the door. It snapped open a moment later and Sirius stepped onto the carpet. She eyed his boots with disgust before glancing to the stairs and then back to him, she said "He'll be in his room."

"Should I get him?"

She angled her chin upward, "I'll show you."

She led him up the stairs to the tiniest bedroom, knocking briskly on the door before opening it. Harry was lying on his bed with a ping pong paddle, smacking the ball once before missing it as he noticed his visitors. Hedwig hooted a hello from Harry's desk. Sirius glanced around Harry's room, surprised to see it was very bland, junk piled in the corner, and not one poster stuck to his wall.

"Get your things pup," Sirius said grinning, despite it.

"Am I coming to live with you?"

"Just for the summer I'm afraid," Sirius said as Harry leapt off the bed and grabbed Hedwig's cage, "we'll have to see how things pan out alright?"

Petunia had already left Sirius' side, but Sirius didn't pay much attention as Harry wrenched up the floorboard by his bed. Sirius frowned as Harry pulled the birthday cake out he'd sent Harry just the night before. Three more followed, and then Harry was pulling a stack of bundled letters out. Sirius took Hedwig as Harry balanced his things.

"Where's your trunk?" Sirius asked, but Harry was already leading the way back downstairs.

Sirius watched as Lily's sister stood at the opened door of the cupboard beneath the steps. Harry stepped to her side, dropping to his knees to open his trunk and deposit his things within it. Sirius set down Hedwig and drew his wand, freezing as Petunia let out a squawk of outrage.

"Not in my house!" She said angrily.

Sirius' eyebrow drifted into the black fringe of his hair. He knelt down anyway, tapping the trunk so it shrunk before he lifted it from the floor with two fingers and pocketed it. He stood up and grabbed Hedwig's cage again. Both Harry and Sirius glanced to his aunt, her arms folded tightly over her chest as she considered them.

"Goodbye," Harry said awkwardly, he turned to walk away but Sirius caught his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to your nephew?"

Petunia sniffed, "goodbye," she said stiffly.

Godfather and godson stepped onto the lawn as the door slammed behind them. Indifferent, Harry looked around for Sirius' bike, but didn't see it. He glanced around to Sirius who had yet to let go of Harry's shoulder, "err – where are we going?"

"You'll see," Sirius said while his eyes darted around, checking for watching muggles; without warning the world pressed in on them, squeezing Harry so tightly he felt as if he would be ill.

Cement knocked against Harry's knees as he fell with a gasp, while they'd stopped moving the world continuing to twirl around Harry. Harry gulped and sat back shakily. Sirius helped him up.

"Sorry about that – have you er - ever apparated before?"

"No," Harry answered weakly.

"Are you feeling okay," Sirius asked anxiously.

Harry managed a nod; he glanced around at the bustling boardwalk and the sea crashing against the sandy stretch of beach aside it. Brightly colored shops lined the sidewalk, muggles packed around in little groups, their laughter filtering with the sound of the waves. A large Ferris wheel turned further away; Harry stared at in wonderment, having never road one. The next moment however Sirius was steering him away. A pebbled road lined in trees on one side, sat with little brightly colored cottages on the other. They stopped near a tree between the second and the third, and Sirius withdrew a slip of paper.

"Read this," he said thrusting the paper under Harry's nose.

Harry took it, tilting his head as he read the address, "but what am I – "

"Look," Sirius bent a little to mutter over Harry's shoulder.

Harry followed his godfather's grey stare back to the tree, and there just behind it a tiny house had appeared, pressing addresses two and four apart. The little blue cottage looked weathered but cozy, with an odd assembly of wicker seating scattered around the wraparound porch. Harry followed Sirius up the creaky steps; the muggle sitting on the deck of number two did not even notice their voyage onto the invisible porch.

"It's not much," Sirius said as Harry following him into the large room that played the part of both kitchen and sitting room, "but you'll be at school most of the year, and I thought you might like a bit of a vacation on your holidays."

Harry thought it was Sirius who could use the vacation, spending twelve years with the Dursleys was nothing compared to spending twelve years in Azkaban with its guards. Harry had a bad reaction around dementors due in part to his mother's murder; every time they came around he heard more of it, her screaming and Voldemort's high pitched cold cruel voice. Harry inhaled at the memory and continued to take in his surroundings. The mismatched furniture was homey, some looked old and used. On the walls stood several photographs of the Marauders, baby Harrys, his parent's, and Sirius with various people. Sirius hesitated near the hallway dividing the kitchen half of the room and the living room half.

"I'll show you your room," Sirius said, shaking a wavy lock of hair from his eyes.

Down the hallway Sirius pointed out the toilet, the spare bedroom, and two doors at the very end. To the left was Sirius' room and to the right was Harry's. Sirius took Harry's trunk out and enlarged it while Harry stood in the doorway. Windows wrapped around the room, a screen door gave way to the deck beyond, and beyond that stood the long stretch of beach with its crashing waves. It took Harry a moment to notice the bookshelf at the side, photographs crowded together on the only shelf with anything on it.

Lifting one of his mother and father, both bent low to catch one of Harry's stubby baby hands, Harry watched as he stumbled and they smiled proudly. His little socked feet felt across the hardware floor in the picture, his parent's walked alongside him. His stomach gave a little flip as his mother laughed and her green eyes turned toward whoever had taken the picture, apparently amused by whatever they had said. He hadn't realized when Sirius had walked to stand beside him, out of the corner of his eye he watched as Sirius picked up a frame of himself and Harry's father. Harry looked away, the burn in his eyes intensifying.

"I wish you could have known them," Sirius said softly, "they loved you very much."

"Do you miss them?" Harry croaked in a tiny whisper, the backs of his eyes stinging as his throat closed.

Sirius was staring at him, but Harry wouldn't look back, "I miss them every day," he said quietly.

"I miss them too," Harry admitted; his shoulders drew up as Sirius tossed an arm around them, pulling Harry against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Sirius muttered; Harry glanced up at his godfather, but his grey eyes continued to stare at the photo collage, "it isn't fair that I knew them so well, it isn't right."

Time lulled by as Harry relaxed into his godfather's grip, glancing from photo to photo. The peaceful sound of the crashing waves made Harry sleepy, especially as he began to day dream, imaging the story in every photo. Sirius brought him back to reality with one brief squeeze of his captured shoulder. The warmth of his arm slipped away as he moved across the room and tossed Harry's wardrobe open. Harry had to swallow to dispel the ache in his chest; Sirius' intention seemed to be to distract both of them.

"Need help unpacking," Sirius asked pausing.

"That's alright," Harry said, his stomach rumbled loudly and Sirius laughed as Harry smiled sheepishly, embarrassed.

"Let us eat first then," Sirius said, "I can make a mean sandwich."

Harry chose to unpack while his godfather made lunch. After he'd hung all of his clothes and scattered his school books across his desk, he took to decorating the empty shelves of his book case. Even though all he had where his old school books and the ones Ron or Hermione had gifted him, they filled up half of the shelving. Checking the time on the little alarm clock near his bed, Harry grabbed a quill and quickly jotted twin thank you notes to Ron and Hermione for his cakes. He was finishing Hagrid's when Sirius appeared, two floating plates and cups behind him.

They spent the day on the back porch, Sirius told Harry stories about his adventures at Hogwarts. The older man filled almost every silence, but Harry didn't mind. He figured Azkaban must have been lonely, and he could never hear enough stories about his parents. Eyes drooping Sirius convinced Harry he should turn in, and so Sirius bid him goodnight as Harry went back into his bedroom eager for sleep. Sirius didn't know it had been the best birthday Harry could remember having; he sat on the porch for a while longer, listening idly as his godson shuffled around his bedroom. Harry had been silent for a long while before a crack sounded in the distance. Sighing, rather tired, Sirius walked around the porch to the front of the cottage.

He frowned at Lupin as he climbed the porch steps, "he's asleep," Sirius said.

"Oh," Remus glanced down at the badly wrapped gift in his hands, "I guess I'll leave this with you then."

Sirius took it from him, "he's a bit quiet."

Remus gave Sirius a crooked smile, "he's more like Lily."

Sirius flopped down into a wicker rocking chair, "I think he likes me."

"I'm sure he does," Remus smiled privately, sitting down in the chair across from Sirius; he could remember vividly the first few weeks of Harry's life. Sirius was obsessed with impressing the little thing, no matter how many times James and Lily warned him that the most baby Harry felt was to poop and pee and cry for food. Sirius had persisted and had been rewarded in the form of Harry speaking his name first; James had been mad but then had admitted his jealousy later.

"Did Harry ever say anything to you – about the Dursleys?" Sirius cut across his reverie.

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment, "not that I can recall," tired amber eyes considered Sirius, "Why do you ask?"

"I don't trust them."

"Why do you say?"

Sirius retold the events of the morning, and then his first visit to see Harry. When he was finished he watched Remus impatiently. The werewolf's guarded look masked whatever he was thinking or feeling, it bothered Sirius into a heavy sigh, "well?"

"I don't know Sirius, but you shouldn't press Harry about it."

"Why not," Sirius asked impishly.

"Harry will come to you when he feels comfortable enough…"

They both sat quietly for a while and then Sirius asked, "What'd you buy him," Sirius rattled the gift.

"It's a book."

"A book Moony, really? He's fourteen years old. That's comparable to getting clothes when you're eight."

"My parents bought me a nice pair of robes for my eighth birthday, and it was one of my favorite gifts," Remus looked affronted.

"What about when James and I bought you that saddle?"

Remus' lip twitched, "oh yes, the bright blue one with the expensive leather?"

"Do you still have that?"

"Around Christmas time I offer the children in the square free rides. I don't know why, but they're still put off by the fact that I'm a werewolf, after all these years. It still hurts my feelings that they prefer the carriage."

"Must be the teeth," Sirius toned in mock seriousness.

"Yes, because you and James didn't seem to mind."

"I never seen it after the day we gave it to you."

"I got rid of it before you dolts would actually think to try."

"I'm hurt."

"Better than dead," Remus said rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "honestly I don't ever know what I was thinking, being with the lot of you."

"You must have looked forward to the day you could give a fourteen year old a book for his birthday."

Remus stared at him and then grabbed a melted candle off the porch railing; he pelted it at Sirius, but Sirius dodged it. They were both shaking with raucous laughter as Sirius threw Harry's gift at Remus; Remus caught it but the wrapping tore and fell away. Sirius craned his neck to see the title, but paused upon spotting a photograph in the wrapping on the ground. They both lunged for it simultaneously; Sirius caught a good glimpse of it as Remus slipped it back into the book. The werewolf smirked as the color drained from Sirius' face.

"You can't show him that!"

"Why not," Remus' smirk widened.

"You've gotten wily haven't you?"

"James would have wanted him to see it."

"How about we trade gifts; you can give him the quidditch tickets, and I'll give him the book."

Remus laughed, Sirius thrilled at seeing his old friend smile so brightly, even at the cost of his own pride. Remus sighed, still smiling, "I've waited a bit longer to give him a book for his birthday. I knew the day that photo was taken I would use it for blackmail," the two friends smiled at each other, and for a moment it was as if nothing had changed. Sirius could pretend James and Lily were enjoying a date night and Remus had come to help watch their small infant. Everything seemed right, just for the night; his godson slept peacefully rooms away, the sea crashed in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter. Bits of dialogue have been taken from pages 6 through 22, from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  
><strong>AN<strong>: I solemnly swear not to make my version of GOF as boring or as long as JKR's. Cheers: to my least favorite book in the series. Thank you lovely reviewers! I love reading your input and agree with most of it. Although I love Remus, I did think he was a coward most of the series. I felt for him; he is a werewolf, hated by most of society, there has to be repercussions in his character. I also sympathize for Sirius; he is a shotty parental figure, but he tried, and he definitely cared for Harry. Hopefully I can offer both of em' some redemption eh? ;)

* * *

><p><em> The fire he now saw had been lit in the grate. This surprised him. Then he stopped moving and listened intensely, for a man's voice spoke within the room.<em>

"There is more my Lord," the voice said quietly, smoothly, in an accent Frank Bryce could not place.

"Later," said a second voice. This too belonged to a man – but it was strangely high–pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Fatmir."

Frank turned his right ear to the door, the better to hear. There came the clink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface, and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. Frank caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He was wearing a long black cloak; his dark brown hair fell in handsome waves across the back of his head. Then he went out of sight again, stepping on a crinkling newspaper as he did so.

"Where is Nagini?" said the cold voice as the man stooped to pick up the paper.

"She left not twenty minutes ago, perhaps to secure the house," said the first voice in his strange accent. He moved near the door so Frank had to remain still, watching fearfully as the man froze in his progress at the voice of the second man.

"You will milk her before you leave, Fatmir," said the second voice. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

"It was a long journey my lord," the voice consorted, he sat the paper down on a small table near the door.

Frank thought he saw the picture on it move, but then it dropped flat and the first man turned back to the second one, distracting Frank with relief that he had not been seen. Brow furrowed, Frank inclined his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard thereafter. There was a pause, and then the man called Fatmir spoke again.

"My Lord, is it wise that Crouch attempt his escape at the World cup?"

"You do not agree?"

"If we cannot so much as touch the Potter boy at the Quidditch World Cup, due in part to the tight security, then why should Crouch attempt his escape there," the voice questioned in its thick accent.

Frank inserted a gnarled finger into his ear and rotated it. Owing, no doubt, to a buildup of earwax, he had heard the word "Quidditch," which was not a word at all.

"What is your fear Fatmir?"

"My Lord, I have none – "

"Liar," breathed the second voice, "Do not lie to me! I can always tell! You are regretting having helped me in the forest; you are missing your loved one! You cannot see how our plan will succeed. Silence!"

The other man cleared his throat and quieted, maybe ashamed or embarrassed. For a few seconds, Frank could hear nothing but the fire crackling. Then the second man spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss.

"I am not asking you do it alone. Just one more murder and then our path to Harry Potter will be clear. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined me. I will allow you to return to your loved one, owing that you will return to me soon after. If you do not, you will not be the first to see weakness in love. Do not make me murder Fatmir, it is too easy," cruel amusement wove with daring warning; the first voice fell silent for some time. Frank strained his ears against the pounding that had settled in them, finally the second voice spoke again "It is lucky we found Bertha Jorkins, I do not want you to regret killing her. The information she has given us will help greatly in the end, and you will be rewarded my servant, for finding me when no other has tried."

Out in the corridor, Frank suddenly became aware that the hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The man with the cold voice had killed a woman. He was talking about it without any kind of remorse – with amusement. He was dangerous – a madman. And he was planning more murders – this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was – was in danger.

Frank knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go to the police. He would creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the village… but the cold voice was speaking again, and Frank remained where he was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might.

"One more murder…my faithful servant at Hogwarts…Harry Potter is as good as mine, Fatmir. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet…I think I hear Nagini…."

A hissing began and everything tumbled together after that. The snake, Voldemort, parseltongue, Fatmir, Frank; he was dead before he hit the floor. Harry awoke with a start, hand clamping to his forehead as every muscle in his body anticipated the lifeless man's body dropping with a thud on the floor.

On his back, Harry breathed hard, as though he'd been running. Not feet away Ron Weasley remained in a heavy sleep, snoring loudly while Harry turned over the images from his vivid dream, sweaty fingers pressed to his sweaty forehead. His lightning bolt scar was burning beneath his fringe, as if someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin.

Still clutching his scar Harry sought out his glasses, sitting up he slipped his pajama clad legs from the camp bed. A blur of orange wall papering threatened to make him ill, his stomach already churning as he pressed his glasses on. He could not make out hardly anything in the dark, moonlight filtered through the bedroom as Harry stood up. Restlessness seized him; his heart beat erratically as he woke up his friend.

"Ron," Harry hissed anxiously, shaking Ron with one hand and running his fingers over his painful scar at the same time, "Ron wake up," Harry said, giving the red head's shoulder a particularly hard shake.

"What'sit?" Ron muttered, sleepy brown eyes snapping open to Harry before disappearing behind heavy lids once more. Harry was tired too, but the aching in his scar only increased his scramble to awake his best friend.

Harry had only been at the Weasley's for two days; his godfather, who Harry had been living with, had dropped him off Thursday morning before leaving to visit a friend. With the promise to return the morning they were to travel to the World Cup, Sirius had dropped Harry through the flu so to spend some time with his friends. The entire Weasley family was home for the World Cup, and it had been the first time Harry had met some of them. They spent the better part of two days playing quidditch, and Friday had been no different. Although Harry loved living with his godfather, they did not have much room for flying, and so had spent most of their summer at the beach or admiring the lights of the boardwalk at night. The Weasleys and Harry had made up for his lack of flying; especially Friday when Mrs. Weasley had had to threaten them with whippings if they continued to band against her. Harry had been the first to fly down, but the rest of her children had been adamant. Harry had fallen asleep to her shouting at the twins, staring at Ron's poster of the Cannons.

Ron blinked sleepily up at Harry, "What is it?"

"It's my scar," Harry said, lowering his hand and sitting back on his heals as Ron sat up, "It hurts," Harry said, his cheeks warming at the whine in his voice. And yet it wasn't the pain that was bothering him, Ron seemed to understand immediately.

"But last time your scar hurt – he was around wasn't he?" Ron said, the color draining from his face, "But…but you-know-who can't be near you now, can he? I mean…you'd know, wouldn't you? I dunno Harry, maybe cursed scars always twinge a bit…When did it start?"

"I had a dream about him," Harry said, he reached up to touch his scar again.

"What happened?"

Harry tried to remember, his eyebrows knitting together as he screwed his eyes shut. The dim picture of a darkened room came to him…There had been a snake on the hearth rug…a small man named Fatmir, with a funny accent…and a cold, high voice…the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked as Ron slipped past him and padded to the bedroom door.

"I'm getting my Mum."

"No," Harry said, shooting upward, "you can't Ron!"

Ron was already out of the room, Harry half jogged after him, wincing at the creak of the stairs as he stopped. Ron had slipped into his parent's bedroom, and Harry didn't feel right following him. Harry waited anxiously; he didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione. Harry kneaded his aching forehead with his knuckles.

What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like – someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience with dark magic. He wanted Sirius, but he felt stupid for wanting for someone he'd only just come to know. What would Sirius think when Harry blubbered to him like a baby, that his scar was hurting and he needed someone to reassure him.

Mrs. Weasley appeared on the cramped landing with her night robes drawn tightly, she gave Harry a sympathetic look before leading him down into the kitchen and sitting him down to her warn table. She pushed his fringe away to examine Harry's scar as Mr. Weasley followed them off the landing. Ron stood on the steps, glancing nervously out of the kitchen windows, as if expecting Voldemort to appear at any moment.

"Would you like us to call Sirius son?" Mr. Weasley asked gently.

Harry swallowed and nodded, his cheeks warming as Mrs. Weasley clucked, "Does it still hurt dear? It doesn't look irritated, maybe a little red from where you've been bothering it."

"Not as much," Harry said tiredly, watching as Mr. Weasley stuck his head in the great, his eyes rounding; no one seemed to notice his surprise.

"He's coming," Mr. Weasley said as he pulled his head away.

Not a second later the fire flared as Sirius stepped out of it. Harry looked away from his grey eyes, full of anxiety as they considered him in turn. The kitchen seemed suddenly crowed though Harry had known it to fit twice as many people before. Mrs. Weasley was searching for something in her cabinets as Sirius knelt down before him and pushed his fringe away.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked gently.

"No," Harry said quietly, eyes lowered. "It's probably nothing."

"Don't be stubborn Harry James," Sirius said, surprising Harry when he used his middle name, "if your scars been hurting, it's something to be worried about. We'll have to talk to Dumbledore – "

"No," Harry whined, embarrassed, "it's fine," he clamored, face flushed.

"Here dear," Mrs. Weasley moved around Sirius and handed Harry a flask, "this should help with your headache."

Harry drank it, ever self conscious of Sirius' appraisal. Sirius sighed, eyes still searching out Harry's features he asked "Would you like to come home for the evening?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, ducking his head.

"Don't worry, we'll work it out," Sirius seemed to know what Harry needed to hear, upon Harry's deep breath Sirius stood up and glanced at Mrs. Weasley, "call me if I'm needed."

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley said briskly, she looked as if she was bothered by Sirius' presence. They had talked for a long while on Thursday when Sirius had dropped Harry off. Harry had the feeling Mrs. Weasley didn't believe Sirius entirely innocent, with the twins help Ron and Harry had discovered that he'd been right. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley spent half the afternoon speaking with his godfather, but in the end Mr. Weasley seemed to be the only one who took what Sirius had said for truth.

Harry stood up, prepared to sneak back to bed before he could be addressed again, but he froze as Sirius jerked him into an awkward hug. He took a deep breath as Sirius' head settled aside the top of his. It was a strange thing, to feel cared for so much; Harry wasn't regretting his decision to have Mr. Weasley call Sirius anymore. A bit of his anxiety dissipated as Sirius spoke.

"If you need me Harry, I'm just a flu call away," he murmured.

Harry nodded, almost grinning when Sirius ruffled his hair in an affectionate way. He followed Ron back up to bed while Sirius turned toward the Weasleys. He reached up and messed his hair around in an old gesture; it fell back into perfect place, handsome waves framing his handsome features.

"Has this happened before?" Sirius asked.

The Weasleys exchanged a short look and then Mr. Weasley replied, "Not that we can think on, but addressing Dumbledore does seem the right thing to do Sirius."

Sirius inhaled, "I'm pants at this parenting thing."

Mrs. Weasley looked indecisive and then she said easily, "It'll get easier dear."

Sirius climbed back through the grate, glancing around his living room to find Remus had moved from the kitchen to the sofa. He refused to sleep in the guest bedroom; Sirius suspected it was because he didn't want to be coerced into making it his own. At first look the exhausted werewolf was seemingly asleep, but his tired amber eyes blinked open as Sirius threw himself into an arm chair with a heavy sigh.

"Was he okay?" Remus croaked.

"Looked okay," Sirius said distractedly.

Remus sat up, wincing at the ache in his heavy limbs, "what did the Weasleys say?"

"It's a first," he shrugged, "I'll ask Dumbledore about it tomorrow."

"It's bothering you."

"I've got a bad feeling."

"James used to say that all of the time; I think it must come with the territory of being a Father."

"I'm not his father," Sirius said shortly.

Remus arched an eyebrow, "I know. I just meant that you're filling that role now."

Sirius frowned at him, "I don't want to replace James."

"Well you can't be Harry's best friend – he needs guidance," Remus sighed and settled back into the couch, "he sure seems to find trouble as much as James did."

"Doesn't this scar business worry you?"

"There isn't much we can do about it apart from making guesses in the dark. Maybe Harry just dreamed it was hurting him, sometimes dreams are hard to distinguish."

"I don't think so," Sirius said firmly, scratching at the shadow of his facial hair, "he was too bothered for it to just be a dream. He has nightmares all of the time anyway, and he's never bothered me or anyone about them before."

"How do you know then?"

"He talks in his sleep."

Remus' eyebrows drew together, "A lot?"

"Enough," Sirius said wearily, "about snakes and Voldemort. Other things too, but I'm more bothered that my fourteen year old godson is having nightmares about a wizard who is powerless now. I don't think I had nightmares about Voldemort when I was fourteen, and he was a fully fledged murderer at that point in our lives."

"Albus said he's come face to face with him, that'll be why."

Sirius looked stricken and confused in one, "with Voldemort?"

Remus briefly told what he knew of Harry's first and second year, it wasn't much and most of the story stemmed from what his previous Head of house had told him in passing conversations. Dumbledore seemed keen to keep the exact details private, but had mentioned certain things to Remus on different occasions. When he finished detailing what he knew, Sirius was staring vacantly into the dying embers of the grate.

"That'll explain the parseltongue," Sirius said quietly.

Remus snorted, "It's fine Sirius; speaking parseltongue doesn't make you a dark wizard."

"I think I've failed James and Lily," Sirius said darkly, dropping his gaze to his lap as he reached up to massage the bridge of his nose.

Remus sighed; he was growing increasingly tired of reassuring Sirius. Thankfully the animagus seemed to hide his darker moods from Harry. In the weeks following Harry's move, Sirius had gradually reverted to himself again. If ever Harry's interest in him dwindled, Sirius would hole up in his bedroom or else Remus would visit late at night to find him having a drink. Harry wasn't any the wiser. Sirius swore he came around come morning, always to make Harry breakfast and with a plan for the day. The weekend Sirius had allowed Harry to invite Ron over, they'd spent long stretches of time at the beach, holed up in Harry's room, or exploring the boardwalk. Remus couldn't tell if Sirius' subsequent mood had been because of his jealousy at Harry's time being preoccupied with Ron or a deep longing to have his own best friend back. Ron and Harry were certainly inseparable; Remus had noticed that within weeks of their third year. It had taken Remus nearly a week to convince Sirius Harry liked him and wasn't relieved to have some good company in his friend instead; it was obvious in the way Harry seemed to hang on Sirius' every word. Remus had only visited Harry once, and had watched every second of Harry following Sirius around, just like he used to when he was a baby. It was how the Marauders had coined Harry with the endearing nickname pup, but Sirius had been skeptical, even then.

"I wish I had picked somewhere else to live," Sirius said moodily, childishly, "Harry told me through his mirror last night that they've been playing quidditch. I didn't even think about that here. We can fly through the forest I guess but – "

"Sirius," Remus cut across him, "Remember when James started to date Lily?"

Sirius looked up at Remus frowning, "Of course."

"And you thought James liked her more then you."

"I don't remember it that way…"

"You made a fool out of yourself trying to win James over, and James ended up getting mad at you." Sirius' frown deepened, and he grumbled something indiscernible. Remus rolled his eyes and continued, "Harry's allowed to like more than just you; the Weasleys are like his second family, he only gets to see them in the summertime. You need to be patient; you'll have time to get to know him, but don't go suffocating him. Harry likes you, but he has other people in his life. You would too if you got out more."

"You're one to talk."

"I'm perfectly comfortable with the people I have in my life."

"Oh - just me - and Harry when you feel like it," Sirius snorted, "come off it."

"I don't need everyone in my life Sirius," Remus said reverently, "I'm not saying you're attention starved, but you've always been more social than me. There are people still around, if you chose to contact them; I'm sure they wouldn't mind hearing from you."

"Because they missed me so much while I was in Azkaban."

"Ah," Remus said, suddenly understanding. He rolled his eyes, glad for the shadowy darkness in the room, it hide his skepticism "this is one of those things."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been throwing a pity party for the past two months, and I'm no longer attending."

"If that's what you think," Remus expected the outrage; he did not expect Sirius to leap up however, a wild angry look mingling with a familiar reckless one. Remus sighed and sat up, "What are you doing?" he asked tiredly while Sirius moved around the room.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Now," Remus' eyes slid to the Grandfather clock in the corner, one of the few things Sirius had salvaged for his furnished home; it was nearly four in the morning.

"Yes now," Sirius snapped at the door.

"It isn't a good idea, not with the entire wizarding world knowing you live in this area, thanks to Skeeter. Don't forget you're registered now Sirius; you can't just go wandering around and think…" but Sirius had thrown open the door and changed in a great black dog. Remus sat up on the couch, "Sirius!" he called after the dog as it bounded into the night.

Limbs protesting, he leapt off the couch and took off after the dog, pausing on the last porch step to stare into the darkness. The sound of the sea was the tree's only symphony as they swayed in the looming darkness. Porch lights were the only lights that lit the lane. The large black shaggy dog was nowhere to be seen. Swearing, Remus jogged off the porch steps, drawing his wand as he turned onto the small roadway. No looming shadows stood out amongst the houses, but Remus had the distinct feeling Sirius was watching him.

"Sirius," Remus called tiredly, "Come on, you're being pathetic Padfoot!" His teeth grit together as he began to walk, a bad feeling circling around in his stomach. Up above him the moon stood out amongst the clouds, although not in its entirety as it had been nights before. The werewolf shivered; his senses were sharp as he turned onto the long stretch of widened sidewalk. It gave way to brightly colored storefronts on one side and a beach on the other. Here street lamps loomed, casting eerie shadows where the moon's light did not touch. Remus breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Sirius in his dog form at the sea's edge, long back fur ruffling in the wind. He paused to watch Sirius for a moment, the hairs on his neck stood on end; though the war had long ended Remus had kept the feeling of paranoia that had always accompanied it. He didn't like being out at night even before the war. Once upon a time he'd gone against his parent's wishes and adventured into the dark shadows of his backyard, having heard a noise from his bedroom. Remus shivered again, glancing around; it was then he spotted them.

The dark shadow was parallel to him, growing as it approached from a distance. It seemed to be moving toward Sirius in a pronounced way. Remus' heart shot into his throat as he began to run.

"Sirius," Remus roared, raising his wand as the dark figure froze. Dog Sirius glanced around at the fear in his friend's voice. Remus was nearly out of breath, the pain in his aching limbs intensifying with the stitch in his side as he sprinted. The sand slowed his progress significantly, but he didn't have to run for much longer, because a loud crack split the air drawing both dog's and werewolf's attention.

Sirius changed right on the beach, drawing his wand as Remus' lit, but the darkened sand did not give way to the looming shadowy figure again. He had gone; he had disapparated. Remus panted as Sirius stared around in the dark.

"Did you see him?" Remus breathed.

"Did you?"

Remus shook his head, catching his breath he swallowed, "he was moving toward you – he was coming for you."

Sirius looked extremely pale in the dark, "We need to see Dumbledore."

Remus nodded once, he glanced around again, "It felt like someone was watching me."

"Me too," Sirius said quietly.

"I thought it was you," they both said at once.

Both seemed to make up their minds at once, with a nod at the other they apparated hundreds of miles away. It had only been a short while since they'd seen the gates of Hogwarts, but a long one sing they'd walked through them together. The grounds, shrouded in darkness, were not their normal inviting welcome. Sirius scowled at the large double doors. How had it been, that things had been so perfect? Hurting scars and possible lurking dangers propelled the pair to their old Headmaster's office. Sirius was not happy; for the first time in weeks he was reminded of his fear during the first war. Without a dementor to ferret the memories forward, he'd been unbothered; but now things seemed to be taking a turn for the worst. If the threat of Voldemort wasn't truly gone, he had much bigger things to worry about rather than if his godson liked him or not. Suddenly it seemed important just to keep Harry safe, if that was even possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Some dialogue and descriptions have been taken from Chapters three through nine of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and also Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

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><p><em>Harry disentangled himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor.<em> In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, dressed rather oddly Harry thought. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory seemed to know them, they struck up conversation immediately. Harry looked around but could not make out much through the mist. With the oddly dressed wizard's direction their group divided, and Harry followed the Weasley's on a twenty minute long trek, pausing only when a gate loomed ahead of them. Harry's eyes widened at the sight that followed: thousands of tents rose up the gentle slope of a large field, toward a dark wood on the horizon.

Excited not only to explore his new surroundings, Harry's head whipped around for sight of his godfather. Sirius had not said where he would meet them, though he had promised he would meet up with them upon their arrival. Mr. Weasley pulled Harry aside, once they'd sorted out the issue of muggle money they were on their way to their campsites. Harry gaped at the many rows of tents they walked between. The further they traveled into the campgrounds, the more elaborate the set ups seemed to become and the less Harry found himself surprised that Mr. Roberts was in need of obliviation so often.

Only when they reached the top of the field did Harry see Sirius. His laugh filtered through the various stirrings of noise and floating conversations in the crisp morning air. Grin widening, Harry half jogged past the empty space near the very edge of the woods. The Weasley's dropped their things there and followed him.

"Hello Remus," Harry said excitedly to the graying wizard at Sirius' side. After his visit earlier in the summer he'd requested Harry call him by his first name.

"Morning Harry, how are you?" Remus asked pausing in tethering the tent he was helping Sirius to put up. Another wizard appeared from around the side as Sirius straightened, brushing his hands on his jeans and returning Harry's grin.

Harry caught Remus' hand and shook it before Remus half turned to motion toward the tall, black bald wizard aside him. It barely gave Harry enough time to contemplate how ill Remus looked, as if he'd just come off a long stay in the hospital.

"This is Kingsley Shacklebolt Harry, he knew your father," Remus moved aside as Harry stretched his hand out to catch Kingsley's in a firm handshake.

The man's gold hoop earring glinted as he bowed slightly, "it's a pleasure. You look just like James, I can see now," he noted in a deep slow voice.

"Thanks," Harry said mechanically, it wasn't the first time he'd been compared to his father.

"Hello Arthur," Sirius said jovially, shaking Arthur's hand, "and this is Remus, and you know Kingsley I'm sure."

"Nice to meet you Remus, morning Kingsley," Mr. Weasley said brightly. Mr. Weasley then went on to introduce his children. Sirius, Remus, and Kingsley helped with Mr. Weasley's tents following, talking the entire time about the match while Mr. Weasley watched their work in fascination.

"It's going to be Ireland I'm telling you Moony," Sirius was saying loudly on the opposite side of the erected tent.

"I'm not arguing with you," Remus said wearily, though when he glanced up Harry saw a hint of amusement in his amber colored eyes, "I'm just saying that Bulgaria has a fair chance, Krum has single handedly managed to get them this far."

"He's the only one," Sirius said straightening, a few tent stakes in hand. Remus eyed them nervously as Sirius gestured wildly with them.

Kingsley didn't lose time in starting a full out argument, "That isn't very fair, Levski knows his way around a quaffle."

The twins chimed in after that, Harry and Ron interjected at intervals. When finally the tents went up Mr. Weasley motioned to explore them. Harry and Hermione exchanged a look before following the Weasley's into their tent. After exploring the girl's tent, and then Sirius', Mr. Weasley sent the trio to get water. Harry stooped to tie his shoe lace before they took off. He was surprised he could focus long enough through his awe to catch the low murmur of Kingsley shacklebolt's voice only a few feet behind him.

"I'll see to it they're – "

"They're fine," Sirius snapped. Harry caught Sirius' eyes out of his peripheral vision, he straightened as Sirius winked and turned back to Kingsley.

"Coming Harry," Hermione asked, and with that they set out for the tap.

Remus frowned at Sirius, "is that really wise Sirius, with everything?"

"Oh come off it, Arthur didn't think anything of it."

"Arthur isn't aware of the circumstances," Remus lowered his voice.

"There's plenty of security around," Kingsley reassured them, "or would you like for me to follow the boy?"

Sirius shook his head, "and Dumbledore has Tonks following him either way. If Harry knew he was being watched I'm positive he'd be upset about it. I want him to have a good time, got it Moony?"

Sirius ended the argument effectively, entertaining time with the twins instead. He'd picked up his wand to start the fire before the Weasley's tent, since Mr. Weasley seemed to be having difficulty with the matchbook, but with a startling squeak the wand had failed to work. Sirius burst out laughing, Remus and Kingsley were amused. Any attempt at helping Mr. Weasley was forgotten. The twin's ears brightened at impressing their mentors, Moony and Padfoot. They went on to explain their shop idea which Sirius took immediate interest in, asking them if he could purchase stock in it. A long while passed before Sirius looked around and realized quite some time had gone. Kingsley was already standing tall, looking out over the campgrounds.

"There they are," he said to Sirius' relief. Remus smirked inwardly at the change being a guardian was starting to make in his friend; Sirius wouldn't admit it, but worrying came along with the job. It was a foreign feeling for the animagus, and the werewolf could tell.

"You've been gone about as long as I was in Azkaban," he said jokingly, but Remus recognized it for what is was.

Harry seemed to too, because he answered quickly, always afraid to disappoint, "there's loads of people here from school, and there was a line."

The afternoon began to pass in a haze of reconnecting. Several ministry officials, most of which Sirius had known at a younger age or even attended school with, stopped to chat avidly with Mr. Weasley or Kingsley. Some included Harry's godfather, and some merely glanced between the ex convict and Remus before quickly turning the other way. Harry noticed every so often an aversion to his defense professor would reappear in certain visitors, but he didn't comment on it as Remus looked uncomfortable enough, and he could sympathize.

Late afternoon had brought with it the rest of the Weasley clan, Ludo Bagman, and more avid staring at Harry's scar. Mr. Weasley had explained to them the evening before that Bagman was the reason he'd received the Weasley family's and Hermione's ticket for the top box. He was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far, even with old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing quidditch robes Harry suspected came from his old days of playing quidditch for England. Sirius had told Harry over dinner one evening that he and James had seen one of Bagman's first games. Although Bagman didn't initially recognize Sirius, Harry's godfather quickly stepped to the forefront of their group, noticing Harry's discomfort at Bagman's sweeping gaze. Even after Sirius began to speak the beater stared avidly at Harry's forehead.

Not long after Barty Crouch appeared; Percy had been talking about him all afternoon and most of Harry's stay with the Weasleys. Harry could understand immediately why Percy idolized him, as he was everything Percy strived to be. Harry couldn't help feeling that he knew something more of the straight lined man. He frowned.

"Alright Harry?" Remus asked quietly, leaning over from where he sat on the grass beside him.

"His name sounds familiar," of course it had. Harry could remember nearly everything Percy had glamorized of the man for the past few days, it would be hard to forget when Percy waited around every corner to remind everyone and anything that moved.

"It might, he's a department head at the ministry. He's very famous from the war with Voldemort," Remus spoke as if they were in class, easily schooling Harry.

Harry didn't think that was it, but he didn't say anything else. Properly distracted he missed a larger portion of the conversation. He'd gathered Crouch was harried about something: expanding the top box or something of that sort. Suddenly Crouch seemed to be attempting to distract his colleague. Harry tried to think on what had been said. Luckily Fred and George clued him in once the two men had disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

No matter how much the twins persisted none of the adults confided the answer to them. Harry had the inkling even Sirius knew even though he'd spent most of his new freedom in isolation from the rest of the wizarding world. As the afternoon wore on Sirius began on creative mistruths, because Harry could not believe the school would be housing whatever type of cheese eating cowardice creatures his godfather had begun to describe in detail. Fred and George didn't believe him one bit, though they participated in what Hermione rolled her eyes at repeatedly.

When the sun began to set there was a scuffling to prepare for the night. Mr. Weasley and Kingsley lead their way, Sirius and Remus took host at the end of their group. It was as if an invisible fog of excitement had begun to spread over the encampment. Harry felt the air was harder to breathe, or else he was simply forgetting the further they managed distance themselves from their tents. His heart hammered out his excitement while darkness descended upon the thousands and thousands of converging wizards. The ministry had done away entirely with attempting to dissuade magic; it broke out everywhere in bursts and bangs. Vendors of every sort appeared amongst the crowds, their bright displays drawing the trio's attention until their arms were laden with buys.

"Here," Sirius said, once they'd all run out of money, "just remember I'm your favorite." He pulled a tiny satchel from his pocket and dumped more coins into his palm then Harry could imagine actually fit in the pouch. "Just take it," the Weasleys all seemed rather against the idea, "consider it a gift from the ministry, for keeping your lives so dry without me for so long."

"Cheers!" The twins said before they took off to spend their lot guilt free. As they'd gambled their savings away they hadn't been able to buy anything.

Once they'd started on a path through the woods everyone was decked out in a green or red. Harry and Ron were comparing action figures, dawdling until Sirius tripped Harry up and after much laughter the pair pocketed them. As they followed the red and green lanterns to the pitch the noise level rose significantly. Harry could hardly hear himself think over shouted conversations, loud and sometimes crude singing, and much laughter. Sirius and the Twins were among the loudest, Harry found himself joining in to Hermione's chagrin, but the witch shook her head and smiled as most of the group joined. At the end of their twenty minute walk she'd sang a few choruses, her cheeks were flushed red where Harry's hurt from the amount of grinning he'd been doing. He couldn't remember a better time in his life.

They all paused in the shadow of the looming stadium as they emerged from the woods. Harry was positive he'd never seen anything so large or magnificent. Mr. Weasley took advantage of the awe-struck look on Harry's face to give him the specific details involving the pitch. Sirius watched the exchange, seemingly always surprised at Harry's lack of knowledge regarding the wizarding world.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch as they arrived at the entrance and handed over their tickets. When she checked them she sent them on with instruction.

Harry barely noticed the stitch in his side as they climbed higher and higher up the rich purple carpeting of the stairs within the rumbling stands. The crowd filtered away to doors on either side of the stairs until finally they were alone at the very last door. The small box they entered was easily the highest and best seats available in the stadium, it was placed directly between both goal posts. A quick look told Harry that only twenty four or so lucky wizards were allowed the prime seating. They all sat down in the front row, minus the teenagers who stood overlooking the side of the box.

A golden light seemed to come from the stadium itself, lighting it up in the night, assuming the flash of several cameras could not. A hundred thousand witches and wizards gathered in rising rows of seating around the oval field. Overwhelmed, Harry sat down. He only looked around behind him to spot what he assumed was Dobby the house elf sitting behind him.

"Dobby," Harry said in disbelief, but realized his error when the elf looked up.

Winky, as her name was, went on to explain to Harry Dobby's circumstances and her own. When she'd finished talking Ron voiced his amazement at what he deemed was a weird little creature. Sirius started to tell them about the house elf he'd had as a child, but the boys were distractedly toying with their Omnioculars. Hermione read from the program with side notes from Remus and Sirius, while Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and Percy stood to greet the several people who joined them in the moments following. Only when the minister of magic himself insisted upon introducing Harry to the Bulgarian Minister did Harry actually abandon his buy.

It went a little South following. Fudge was determined to get Harry recognition, and Sirius wasn't pleased. Just as the Bulgarian minister recognized him did Sirius lay into Fudge, the minister was sputtering by the time Remus managed to gain control over the situation. Sirius glared at the Bulgarian minister one last time before he sat down again. Both Harry and Remus were flushed from embarrassment, Harry wasn't sure Sirius had helped the situation.

"How do you like being gaped at Moony?" Harry heard Sirius hiss. Remus' teeth snapped together after that. Harry glanced away before Remus could glance at him, knowing he'd just heard something he felt he shouldn't have. Again he found himself wondering about the ministry visitors they'd had at their campsite earlier.

He was lost in thought and awe again before Fudge was announcing the arrival of Lucius Malfoy and his family. Snapping away from there silent wonderment Harry and Ron immediately caught the other's eye. There was a tense moment as the minister asked if Malfoy knew Mr. Weasley, and just as Harry knew the man was about to make a snide remark that only a Malfoy could, the minister then waved to Sirius.

"Surely you know Mr. Black, Lucius?"

Mr. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but Harry did not miss the mischievous glint in them, "I shouldn't be surprised you keep the same company even now. I'd like to think it was Azkaban that has so seriously addled your judgment, but I am not so naïve to forget your singular aptitude for such pets even before your extended holiday," his eyes swept from Remus to Hermione, his lip curling in distaste.

At some point Sirius had stood, but he looked more relaxed then Harry thought he should. It was hard to tell which way Sirius' reactions would go. He held out his hand, the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips, but Mr. Malfoy merely stared down at it in disgust. Sirius waited a beat and then grabbed Narcissa Malfoy's hand, jerking it away from her side in a rough shake. Ire settled in her husband's eyes while she tried to tug her hand away, her high pointed nose pointing further into the sky as she considering Sirius down its long bridge.

"Long time no see Cissa," he said easily, "Bella sends her regards."

Harry didn't know who or what Sirius was referring to, but the woman's face contorted into something of rage and upset. The tiniest click came from Lucius Malfoy's wand as it slipped from his cane. For a moment, as Sirius drew his own, Harry thought they might duel, but then Fudge interrupted.

Fudge, who wasn't listening, went on to boast of Malfoy's donation to Saint Mungo's. After an intense moment the tension seemed to dissipate. Once the Malfoys continued on to their seats, and not without a sneering look at Mr. Weasley, the trio turned forward in disgust.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered, much to his surrounding company's amusement.

"That's an insult to slimy gits everywhere Ron," Sirius said, his lips twitching into a smile though he'd looked very sullen moments before. Even Remus looked relieved and partly amused; Harry was reminded once again at all the odd comments or looks his Professor had received that day.

"Is Remus a muggleborn?" Harry muttered to Sirius, his curiosity winning out as he voiced the only thing he could assume from the odd turn of events.

"No," Sirius said, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, "Why would you – "

Whatever Sirius was going to say was drowned out by Ludo Bagman, whose voice suddenly magnified across the stadium without preamble, announcing the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup. Noise erupted so deafening Harry could not hear himself cheering. As Bulgaria was announced their team mascots started onto the field, Mr. Weasley was about to tell them what they were, or maybe he was telling them, but Harry had no idea.

Veela were woman, Harry instantly understood; the Bulgarian mascots were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His brain worked furiously to puzzle out their unique beauty, their long flowing golden hair and their shining skin. Once the music started he lost track of his thoughts all together; the veela had begun to dance, and Harry's thoughts became dangerously incoherent. At a point he had begun to fathom wild ideas, supremely idiotic notions to win their attention. His foot found the side of the box, something wrapped painfully tight around his arm but he didn't care. He'd cut his arm off to prove his adoration.

"Harry what are you doing," shouted Hermione's voice from a long way off.

"Come on pup," Sirius' amused voice said from somewhere closer. Sirius guided Harry back into his seat between Ron and Hermione, laughing the entire while though Harry still had yet to figure out what had happened. The music stopped abruptly, starting an angry uproar in the crowd. Harry wanted to join in, even if he felt vaguely stupid. Mr. Weasley advised Harry and Ron to be patient as they considered taking their Ireland dress off. It was clear in the two minutes it had taken the Veela to dance onto the field that Ron and Harry no longer supported the Irish. Sirius was still beside himself with laughter, even through Ireland's display. Only when Harry and Ron had come around again did his godfather return his attention to the pitch.

After the best game of Quidditch Harry could remember having ever seen, once the teams had left the top box, he started with his friends back to their campsite. The noise from their trip back along the lantern lit trail continued into the night, so much so that Mr. Weasley allowed all of them to stay awake for a cup of cocoa in the tent. It was very crowded with all of the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Hermione. Fortunately Kingsley had gone to do some quick work for the ministry, only after a long explanation to Harry about his job as an Auror. They were all arguing the finer points of cobbing when Ginny fell asleep to the tiny table and split hot chocolate all over the floor. Mr. Weasley effectively ended their conversations after that, sending everyone to bed, even a whining Sirius.

Ginny, Hermione, Sirius, and Remus returned to their own tents. Harry accepted Sirius' affectionate hair ruffling good night before changing into his pajamas. He climbed into the bunk he shared with Ron, listening to the continued noises from the celebrations of the night. The odd bang sounded with the carrying singing that continued even into Harry's dreams. In his dreams it was he who pulled off the Wronski Feint, with robes shining his last name, and a stadium full of people chanting 'Potter'. Mr. Weasley's voice shouted above the rest.

"Harry!"

"Get up! Ron – Harry – come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

In his half fogged state of mind Harry recognized he needed to move faster than his currently slow progression off the bunk bed. It was obvious as seconds passed by, where Mr. Weasley was beside himself in anxiety, that something was extremely wrong. Screams had replaced the euphoric echoes from earlier in the night. Harry could hear people running past the tent, could practically feel their panic as he reached for his clothes.

"No time – just grab your jacket and get outside – Sirius and the others are waiting – quick you two!"

Harry responded dutifully, hurrying out of the tent as he tugged his jacket on, Ron was on his heels. The sight that met them was horrifying, Harry's feet rooted to the ground as he looked around. He hardly noticed the people fleeing into the woods or disapparating on spot. All he noticed was the mass moving toward them, trampling over tent sites, barely visible from the dying fires.

From what Harry could make out there were four struggling figures wriggling around in the air above the gathering crowd. It seemed to grow by the moment, and while some of the bright flashes of light seemed to hit their targets, other bangs and booms targeted attention. Loud jeering laughter filtered through the screams of the fleeing people around them, drunken yells drifted toward Harry and the others while they watched. The crowd below the floating people seemed to be controlling them like puppeteers. The masked hooded wizards either pointed than laughed at those they seemed to be torturing or else terrorized the frightened people moving around them. A flash of green startled Harry sideways, his foot catching on a root before strong hands steadied him.

"Stay close," Sirius said briskly into Harry's ear, he held onto Harry's shoulder anyway.

It seemed like it had been a long while as Harry, Ron, Sirius, and Remus watched the masked men destroy tents and blast others out of their way. Once one of the fires had caught to one tent, it began to spread to the next. The growing fire illuminated the floating struggling people, and Harry recognized them as the muggle owner of the campgrounds and his family. The woman was flipped upside down, her dress coming up for the masked men to leer at. Her son was being spun around in sickeningly fast circles.

"That's sick," Ron said, "really sick…"

As the girls joined them some of Sirius' tension seemed to dispel. His grip loosened on Harry's shoulder while Mr. Weasley instructed them. Once Mr. Weasley, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and Remus sprinted off to help the ministry Sirius led the group of teenagers into the woods. Fred grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her to the front of the group beside Sirius. It was chaotic.

The colorful lanterns from earlier in the evening were no more, dark figures moved through the woods in a panicked flurry. People knocked Harry left and right as he fought to keep sight of Sirius' bobbing head. Once or twice his godfather's grey eyes would sweep over his shoulder, land on Harry, and then turn forward, wand raised high to illuminate their path. Anxious shouts cut through the chill of the night as Harry tried to glance around at faces he could not see well in the dark. He felt like the jostling crowds were slowly beginning to separate family members, screaming children, and Sirius. Harry's heartbeat pulsed in his ears as a beat later Ron yelled out in pain.

Hermione lit her wand, and just when Harry assumed things could not get much worse, realizing they were separated from Sirius in the same moment, Draco Malfoy appeared. In his frustration he found his patients with the Slytherin in short supply. Hermione had been restraining Ron when Malfoy offered Harry a small smirk.

"Scare easily don't they?" he said lazily, his grey eyes flicked to Harry's. "I suppose your Godfather sent you out here Potter – he's only been out of prison for what, a year? He already knows you're barmy, probably regrets ever taking orphan Potter in, probably hopes -"

WHAM.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted.

Harry inhaled through his nostrils, but he did not have much time to contemplate what he'd just done. Malfoy's nose might have been spurting blood but he was on top of Harry within seconds. Ron somehow became entangled with them; that was until Malfoy managed to slip away from them.

"You'll be hearing from my Father Potter," Malfoy sneered, he disappeared into the night as Ron made a fake lunge for him.

Hermione glanced between them, tears in her eyes, "are you okay?" Harry could feel his eye bruising, where Ron had only managed a few scratches across his cheek. Malfoy had looked far worse, Harry conceded privately. Hermione clucked away worriedly, examining them in her wand light.

"Come on," she finally said, she looked around. Her lip instantly went between her teeth, she breathed anxiously, "let's go look for the others then."

After passing some girls Hermione had explained were from another wizarding school, Beauxbatons, Ron tugged out his wand and lit it. Harry followed suit, but found his pockets empty except for his Omnioculars. Heart beating in a quick staccato Harry stopped, pulling his pockets out and staring through the darkness helplessly.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, pointing her wand toward Harry and lighting his empty pocket.

"I can't believe it…I've lost my wand," Harry said frantically.

"You're kidding!" Ron and Hermione chorused.

They searched over the ground for it before Ron reasoned it must be at the tent. Harry reluctantly agreed. He suddenly found his anxiety had increased; he'd never been caught without his wand in the wizarding world before, and he felt very vulnerable without it. He didn't have long to think on it before a rustling noise beside them made all three of them jump. Winky, Crouch's house elf appeared briefly, complaining of dark wizards.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked, watching curiously as she retreated as if struggling against something, "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," Harry surmised.

They followed the dark path deeper into the woods, searching out the rest of the Weasleys and Sirius in the darkness. Hermione was advocating on house elf rights the entire time. They passed Goblins and Veela, and then quiet suddenly they found themselves very deep within the woods.

"We could just wait here," Harry said once they reached a small clearing, "I reckon we'd hear someone coming from a mile off."

A long while passed where Harry sat on a log, and Ron took his Krum action figure out to observe on another. Hermione paced a few shorts spaces, back and forth. Harry listened for sound from the campsites while Hermione began to worry for the others. She was worrying aloud again, this time about how it had all started, when she abruptly stopped talking. Harry straightened while Ron looked around quickly. Hermione looked over her shoulder at the sound of someone staggering toward their clearing. The footsteps came to a halt after they'd waited for so long, just before they could see whoever it was who had been walking toward them.

"Hello?" Harry called nervously.

No answer. Harry called out again as he stood up and peered around the tree he thought he heard noise near. It was too dark to see even a silhouette he knew must be there. He could sense them standing just beyond his range of vision, listening in turn. Harry's heart raced in his throat before he swallowed it down and called out again. The result was instantaneous, the utterance of a spell by a calm voice unlike the many shouting ones they'd previously heard.

"MORSMORDRE!"

Ron said something as the green smoky shape shot into the sky. It stood out against the night amongst the stars. Harry looked around as screams began renewed. He didn't understand what it could possibly mean; it held the feeling of an omen. He looked back to the woods, stepping forward to peer into it, looking for whoever had conjured the neon sign. He started to shout out for them, but Hermione caught his arm.

"Harry, move! Come on!" Hermione looked absolutely panicked; she jerked on the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward painfully, without much gentleness.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, glancing between her and a pale faced Ron. Hermione looked terrified, ghostly in the dim light of her wand.

"It's the Dark Mark Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"Voldemort's - ?"

"Harry, come on!"

A crack sounded through the air freezing them all in their steps, Ron had stooped low and was pocketing his action figure. Harry glanced around, feeling his lungs fill as he recognized Sirius. It was a momentary feeling of relief as several more popping sounds rent the air. They all whirled around, and in an instant Harry realized each wizard had their wands directed at them. Without thinking he shouted for his friends to 'duck' and shoved them all down, including Sirius.

"Stupefy!" roared twenty or so voices. The clearing lit up in angry red flashes of light, ruffling the hair on the back of Harry's head, much alike to a very strong wind. Harry tried to look up at the scattering jets of light bounding from tree trunks and darting into the darkness, but Sirius pressed his head down. They locked eyes as a familiar voice shouted for everyone to seize firing. Harry looked up, eased to see Mr. Weasley.

"Sirius – Ron – Harry," Mr. Weasley panted, his voice sounded shaky in the same go, "Hermione – are you all right?"

"Out of my way Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch; he and the rest of the ministry members had stopped firing, but they were still closing in on them. All four sprang to their feet; Harry glanced up at Sirius whose eyes were narrowed. Crouch considered him first.

"I suppose freedom was too much for you Black," he snapped, his eyes were sharp as they cut across Harry's godfather, "I knew it."

"He didn't do that," Harry said pointing up at the sky.

"Which of you conjured it then?" his eyes darted between them, "if not Black, who has already been convicted on charges of being a death eater."

"He's innocent – "

"Harry," Sirius said calmly, catching Harry's shoulder as Harry drew up and his cheeks flushed with heat.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbows and looking indignantly at his father, "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Sirius, and his eyes were popping – he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Be reasonable you dolt – they're kids, and I believe you've already seen my forearm multiple times," Sirius said darkly.

"Where did the mark come from?" said Mr. Weasley mostly to Hermione, as Ron continued to look irritated and Harry looked as angry as Sirius.

Hermione pointed out the place and added a short explanation of what had happened. Sirius confirmed his arrival as Hermione had said so, but that didn't seem to go over well with Crouch. Harry could feel the electricity in the air; he felt it was only a matter of time before someone snapped.

"So you conjured the dark mark and then you apparated here, so to fool the children!"

"It wasn't Sirius though," Hermione pressed, "it wasn't his voice!"

"Easily masked with a concealing charm," Crouch shouted.

A man Harry recognized as Mr. Diggory disappeared into the darkness to check the trees where Hermione had pointed. Everyone waited with baited breath, Crouch and Sirius stared in hatred at the other. Finally they heard someone moving through the woods, twigs snapping, leaves crunching. Mr. Diggory appeared with a house elf in his arms, one Harry immediately recognized to be Winky. Everyone remained quiet as Mr. Diggory deposited the elf at Crouch's feet. Crouch's eyes remained on the house elf for quite some time before he began to refute it, muttering jerkily as his eyes twitched.

He left abruptly, disappearing into the woods though Mr. Diggory told him he'd already searched them. Crouch didn't listen,\; he moved around for some time, his rustling sounding in the silent night until he reappeared and stopped. Everyone's murmuring whispers had ceased; they all seemed to be shocked that Barty Crouch's house elf could have conjured the dark mark. Harry didn't care so long as Crouch didn't go back to blaming Sirius.

Arguing commenced until Mr. Diggory said, "She had a wand." They proceeded to interrogate her, even after Bagman's late arrival. Harry recognized the wand when it suddenly flashed into his line of vision, as Mr. Diggory spoke wildly.

"That's my wand!" Harry said; he was barely aware of Sirius wincing at his side, "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief, "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the mark?"

Sirius' head fell back in a loud barking laugh, "Are you mad?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. "Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

Winky refuted she had conjured the mark. The longer the interrogation went on. Mr. Crouch seemed to be in disbelief as well, and it was with narrowed eyes and calculated anger that he turned on Sirius again.

"Arrest him," Crouch said, pointing a shaking finger at Sirius, he looked around at specific people Harry expected to be Aurors, "he has no alibi, and he appeared after the mark – "

"No," Harry shouted, Sirius had gone very pale aside him, "Sirius didn't do it!"

"Hold your tongue boy," Crouch half shouted, his eyes were bulging from his head, red veins popped in the vastness of their whites, "this man is a mass murderer – do you really think an elf – "

"NO," Harry cut across him, "you've got the wrong man – AGAIN – "

"Think reasonably Mr. Crouch," Mr. Weasley tried, "Sirius says he was just with my children. They'll be back to the campsite by now, we can question them if you'd like."

"Erm sir – isn't it a possibility that whoever conjured the mark disapparated away from here?" Hermione asked tentatively, "it wasn't Mr. Black; the voice was much different, more quiet."

"Either way I reserve the right to take Mr. Black into holding until further questioning can be arranged," Crouch said hotly.

Harry moved in front of Sirius, "it's my wand what did the spell – if anyone's done it, it's me."

"Harry James," Sirius said sternly, catching the upper of Harry's arm as he said in a quiet yet stern voice, "Don't be stubborn." He inhaled, "– take him back for me Arthur, it won't be long."

"Won't be long will it – because you did it!" shouted Crouch accusingly.

"No," Harry said frantically, turning to Sirius quickly.

"It'll be alright," Sirius said with a smile that didn't meet his eyes, his other hand came up so he grasped Harry firmly, "I'll be by the Burrow to get you when things are said and done."

"You didn't do it," Harry said desperately, the back's of his eyes stinging.

"Please Harry," Sirius said quietly, ducking his head to meet Harry's gaze with a pleading, stormy grey one, "go back with Mr. Weasley."

Harry glanced away as his eyes continued to burn in an embarrassing way, shoulders dropping into Sirius' grip before he was passed on to Mr. Weasley. With some coaxing the trio was guided from the woods, Harry found the evening had been dampened beyond repair; the thought of losing Sirius so soon was heart wrenching. It made him ill to even consider Sirius amongst the dementors again; he didn't even want to think of how he would feel if Crouch convicted Sirius for a second time. Swallowing hard, Harry tried to prepare himself for the oncoming days and the possibility of a life without his godfather.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own. Bits and pieces taken from GoF chapter nine.

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><p>"What happened to the others?" Mr. Weasley asked once they broke through the throng of wizards and witches waiting at the wood's edge.<p>

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron, "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

He led Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd back near the campsites. Some sifted through the debris while others returned to their makeshift homes. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards though several ruined tents seemed to smoke in reminder of the very recent events.

Remus was waiting outside of the tent talking to Charlie as his head floated from at the opening. They both looked around as the others approached.

"Dad, what's going on?" Charlie called through the dark, "Sirius brought Fred, George, and Ginny back. They're okay, but the others – "

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him.

The various Weasleys sat around the kitchen sporting different injuries. Remus, who had looked extremely worse for wear previous, now looked a sallow color with a fresh cut across his cheek. He sat down in one of the only chairs, Harry felt anxious for the older man to know Sirius was in trouble. He opened his mouth to say so, but Bill spoke sharply.

"Did you get them, Dad? Did you get the person who conjured the mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand. They took Sirius into custody – "

"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Remus said at once.

"They don't have much to go on. I very much doubt they'll even apprehend him; Sirius went willingly, he knows his rights, he knows they can't charge him for anything. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Mr. Weasley sighed tiredly.

"Where is he now then?" Remus asked quietly.

"They took him to the ministry."

"Wait – Harry's wand?" Fred said, "But that doesn't make any sense."

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quiet right to get rid of an elf like that – even if Sirius did do it – "

"Sirius didn't do it," Harry shot hotly while Hermione shouted "She didn't do anything!"

Percy's cheeks flushed red and he said, "Running away when he expressly told her not to…embarrassing him in front of the whole ministry….How would that have looked if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control – "

"She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy. He looked very taken aback at her outburst, they'd always gotten along the best.

"Look, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself. "Furthermore, he did what he had to in arresting Black – "

"He didn't have to arrest Sirius!" Harry said angrily, still seething from moments before.

"Well how did Sirius manage to get there – he was here, and gone by the time the mark went up – "

"It wasn't him!" Harry shouted, distressed.

"How do you know – "

"Shut up Perce," Ginny said. She'd looked shaken moments before, but now her ears burned as red as his. She caught Harry's eye as he glanced at her, "Sirius didn't do it."

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" Ron said hastily.

"I don't care what is was!" Harry yelled, he glanced around the room, "Can't we do anything? Can't we go to the ministry and tell them it wasn't him? The others were with him! They can say so!"

"Harry," it was Remus who spoke this time, "the ministry doesn't have any case against Sirius, they'll just ask him a few questions and they'll release him – "

"But – "

"Last time was different," Remus answered in a measured way, "The war was over and the ministry was scrambling to round up the remaining death eaters, I will admit even I believed Sirius was guilty. There's absolutely no reason to arrest Sirius now, and even if he were arrested he would be allotted a trial before he was sent back to Azkaban."

Harry swallowed and glanced away, his eyes were burning again. There was a long silence where he felt everyone's eyes on him. He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably; he was glad when Hermione spoke in way of distraction.

"It was his mark," Hermione said quietly to Ron, "I read about it in the _The Rise and Fall of the_ _Dark Arts._"

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley in the same hushed tone, "Of course people panicked…It was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron frowning. "I mean…it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired…you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside…" Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear…the very worst…"

Once Bill had caught them up on what had happened and Mr. Weasley had explained what Death Eaters were, it seemed to be time for bed. Mr. Weasley was afraid Mrs. Weasley would be beside herself in panic if they didn't return home early. Hermione started a discussion on who could have conjured the mark, but no one could really guess who or why. Harry's head was buzzing as everyone turned in for a few hours sleep. Remus had slipped away neatly, but Harry felt the sudden urgency to convey something to someone, anyone. Since he didn't feel right talking about his worries in front of all the Weasleys he addressed Mr. Weasley alone instead.

"Would you mind – if I went and slept in Remus' tent?"

Mr. Weasley didn't and watched Harry and the girls as they progressed their separate ways. Hermione tossed her arms around Harry before disappearing into her own tent.

"He'll be alright Harry," she whispered, when she pulled away Ginny spoke up.

"Sorry about Percy Harry," her ears still flushed pink, "he had no right."

"Thanks Gin," Harry said sincerely.

Remus looked around surprised when Harry ducked into his tent. He was just sitting down on the double bed across from Sirius'. Harry hovered nervously at the door to the tent. Moments ago he'd had the conviction to tell anyone about his worries. He ought to feel exhausted, staring back at his Professor. It was nearly three in the morning, but he felt wide-awake – wide-awake, and worried.

Three days ago – it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days – he had awoken with his scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?

He wished Sirius would appear suddenly, as he had often did in the past few months, always seeming to know when Harry had needed him the most. Swallowing the knot in his throat Harry moved to Sirius' bed and sat down, he felt suddenly very stupid. There was no going back now.

"Did Sirius tell you about my scar the other night?"

Remus scrutinized him in the dark, "is it hurting again?" His eyes flicked up to Harry's forehead, hidden in the messy fringe of sleep messed hair.

"No – no," Harry shook his head.

"Is something wrong?" Remus asked, "You can tell me Harry."

"I had a dream – well it wasn't like a dream at all," his teeth came together as he glanced away from Remus' steady stare, "It was like I was there," Harry relented.

"What happened?"

Harry hesitated, "Voldemort was in it and – my scar's hurt before, just – the last time it was when Voldemort was nearby." Remus' expression remained masked, so Harry continued, "I'm sure he wasn't at the Burrow, but I knew I was dreaming about him. There was someone with him," Harry closed his eyes trying to remember, but it was futile, he'd hardly remembered the dream when he woke up. "I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill…someone."

"Can you remember anything else?" Remus pressed, suddenly his eyes were searching Harry's, and Harry shifted under their uncomfortable gaze, "this is very important Harry."

Harry frowned, he was teetering on telling Remus that it had been him Voldemort was discussing, but the older man suddenly looked alert. Harry thought he saw traces of worry in the lines of Remus' face.

"Think," Remus urged.

"It was probably just a dream," Harry said, looking around the tent for anything to change the topic on, "it didn't look like him at all," Harry thought suddenly; yes, whatever had been in the chair was revolting.

"Do you know who they were plotting to kill?" Harry hesitated again, just long enough for Remus to look leery, "who?"

"I think – me," Harry said lamely, his cheeks burning as Remus seemed to freeze where he sat. After a long silence Harry said, "But maybe they weren't…"

"Harry you should have told Sirius that night – "

"I know," Harry blurted, though somehow he'd never really thought too, he'd been too panicked about all of the attention he was getting and sounding like a baby. He sighed, "it's probably nothing, it was just a dream," he repeated.

Harry winced as the bed creaked and Remus' socked feet padded across the small space, the bed bent in beside him. Harry found the tension in his shoulders sagging the longer they sat in silence. Neither seemed to know what to say, Remus did look to have intended for something to be said, if anything.

"Sirius and I need to know when these things happen," he said carefully. Harry didn't look at him as he spoke, but he could tell Remus was looking at him. "If it's your scar or a dream or even someone acting funny, we want to know. You aren't bothering us at all," he'd known from Harry's third year that the boy especially hated to be viewed as weak, "we don't want you to have to worry about these things on your own."

Harry looked sideways sheepishly, "It's probably nothing right?" Harry went against his gut, voicing his worry aloud.

"Maybe," Remus said, "but just in case, it's better for Sirius or me to know what's going on. It's Sirius' duty to look after you now. And it'll certainly make things easier for him if he doesn't have to think too hard about anything. We both know he hasn't much common sense on that front."

Harry shared in Remus' small grin, "thank you."

"Thank you Harry, for trusting me," Harry felt his cheeks burn as Remus stood up, "we should both get some sleep now."

Harry lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to him now, to ease him to sleep. It was a long time after Remus seemed to still in his bed that Harry had finally dozed off. It was short lived however, as the door to the tent shook and both Harry and Remus sat bolt upright in their beds. Harry leapt out of his own as Sirius' shaggy head appeared, followed by the slow tired procession of his body. Harry hugged him without much thought, he seemed to freeze for a moment as he realized himself, but he contented as Sirius hugged him in return.

"Good morning now I suppose," Sirius said, a low laugh rumbling in his chest against Harry's ear.

Harry jerkily stood away as Sirius released him, moving around to the tiny kitchenette in starting a pot of tea. Remus had slid his legs from the bed, but looked as worse if not more from the night before. Harry thought Remus could use some more sleep, but if the older man was tired, he didn't let it show through his worry for his friend.

"What happened?"

"The Aurors took me in around three; it took them an hour or so to get their heads about themselves. Reporters were popping up everywhere, Kingsley's who let me go," he snorted, "he asked me all of about two questions and then I had about a mountain's worth of paperwork to fill out. Crouch didn't seem too upset, but then again I don't think he'd thought his accusations through very far. He's already cocked up once hasn't he? He wasn't about to do it again, not with a full scale inquiry already starting anew."

"So you're free?" Harry breathed relieved, sitting down to the table as Sirius sat a cup of tea down in front of him, the animagus went to Remus next.

Cradling his cup Remus said, talking on, "Did you manage to hear anything while you were there?"

"Nothing of importance, they're as clueless as anyone," Sirius sat down across from Harry and frowned into his tea cup, "Rita Skeeter was there, ferreting around. I'm sure she'll have her own take in the prophet this morning."

"Who's Rita Skeeter?" Harry asked, lowering his tea.

"Daily Prophet reporter, but she doesn't report much truth," Sirius snorted, "unless it's to muck up our lives."

"What's do you mean?"

"Skeeter's been reporting on you and Sirius all summer," Remus said tiredly, he stood to take his drained tea cup to the sink, "Have you told him yet Sirius?"

Harry looked around to his frowning godfather. Sirius sighed glancing in an irritated way at Remus, and then back at Harry, "I'm moving."

"What?" Harry felt sick, had this Skeeter woman forced Sirius to leave the country?

"We'll have to do the charm all over, since Skeeter's reported to the entire wizarding world where we live. It isn't safe anymore."

"Oh," Harry said trying not to sound too relieved, he asked nonchalantly, "but I thought no one could find where we lived unless Dumbledore told them so?"

Remus and Sirius glanced sharply at the other, and then to do the door of the tent. Sirius lowered his voice when he spoke next, "we should keep these sorts of things quiet, we'll talk about it more when we get home."

They helped the Weasley's to pack up before parting their separate ways. Mr. Weasley was eager to get home to reassure Molly, and Remus looked like he was about to pass out from fatigue. Harry had never been happier to see his bedroom, he was sure it helped that this bedroom was much more inviting. His parent's faces smiled at him as he settled into his bed, in clean pajamas, after a shower. His eyes drooped as the door creaked open, he didn't hear Sirius' sigh of relief or retreating footsteps.

Remus was in his favorite haunt, curled into the sofa sleeper with a tattered quilt drawn over him. Sirius set about making more tea; he felt jittery enough, but the thought of sleep unsettled him for reasons he could not begin to contemplate. He was reluctant to admit his trip to the ministry had been less nerve racking than his calm demeanor had proved. He resolved he'd do it again, if only to get Harry from the woods and into safety all over.

Sirius leaned against the countertop, staring out the windows at the crashing sea. His neighbor was ambling onto her porch, cooing at a cat perched just on its railing. It seemed so simple that he could barely stand to watch for much longer. When he turned around, folding his arms, he realized Remus had sat up and was considering him carefully.

"Are you okay?"

"You should get some sleep mate; you've definitely seen better days…"

"I have to tell you about something," Remus' eyes seemed to dart to the corridor and then back to Sirius.

Sirius nodded, "before his head hit the pillow," he replied, lowering his voice consciously.

"Harry told me more about the other night, when his scar was hurting him," Remus relayed the story, nearly word for word. Near its end Sirius' grey eyes had darkened to a stormy color, his fingers clutched the countertop behind him, his knuckles white. Remus inhaled deeply, "I can tell Dumbledore if you want to stay home with him…"

"He said it wasn't like a dream?"

"At first, and I think there's probably more to it. He was reluctant to admit it, but I'm sure it shook him up a bit," Remus admitted.

"I've never seen anyone so white," Sirius conceded, eyes examining the floors while he remembered.

"It's something if he's telling us about it," Remus' eyes crinkled as his jaw stretched into a yawn, he settled back into the sofa, "I'll have to sleep the entire week to be ready for the new students."

"Dumbledore probably won't want Harry to – "but whatever anxiety Sirius was about to convey was drowned out by the tiniest whimper. The two Marauders glanced sharply at each other before Sirius darted down the corridor to the last bedroom on the right. Remus was on his heels, slipping into the room just as Sirius knelt down at Harry's bedside. Harry was sitting up, hand clamped over his forehead. Remus paled as Sirius drew his hand away; the scar looked slightly pinked, but otherwise unbothered. Wild emerald eyes considered the older men, something of embarrassment etching into the crease between his brow while his cheeks blossomed red.

"What is it?" Sirius asked urgently.

Remus had managed to go to the toilet in a matter of seconds, he returned with a cup of water from the bathroom sink. Harry took it with a shaking hand, tipping it back, gulping down its contents. Both men noticed the ring of sweat around the neck of his night shirt.

"Nightmare," Harry said finally, in a croaky whisper.

"But you're scars hurting?" Sirius said uneasily.

Remus took the glass back; he contemplated refilling it as Harry spoke quietly, "he's happy."

Sirius' eyebrows drew together as Remus' drew up, "Voldemort?"

Harry looked shaken, he glanced out the window at the crashing sea; the sun was fully up now. It cast it's warmth at the windows, but Harry didn't seem to feel it, he shivered as he looked to his desk. Remus and Sirius exchanged a sly look that Harry didn't seem to intercept. Edging out of the bedroom Remus left Sirius to deal, depositing the glass on the kitchen table before pulling his shabby cloak around his shoulders. He could hear Sirius talking as he left through the floo.

"We'll get this sorted kiddo," Sirius swore, "You should get some sleep." Harry paled at the idea and Sirius sighed, he drew Harry's desk chair around. He straddled the back of it as he sat to keep Harry company, "I'll be here, should anything happen," Harry looked even more uncomfortable at the thought.

"I'm not tired," Harry lied. He'd collectively slept an hour and a half, but he slipped out of his bed and moved around his room, collecting his day clothes. His godfather sighed heavily from behind him, but Harry didn't relent, "can't we go for a walk?"

Sirius glanced out at the empty stretch of beach, "It isn't safe," the worry taste terrible on his tongue, he swallowed at it, but it stuck.

"Can't you just be Padfoot and use a glamour charm on me?"

"I don't think so pup," Sirius said, looking around at his distressed godson with sympathy, "Do you want to go back to the Weasley's? I bet we can convince Mrs. Weasley to make up some sandwiches, it'll be better than my cooking at any rate. She's got your school things anyway, we'll need to stop by eventually."

Harry seemed to consider it, but his shoulders remained slumped even as he shrugged. "Okay," his tone pierced through Sirius, gone was the happy carefree godson Sirius had only just gotten to know.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, and you may find some common themes loosely based off the beginning chapters of the Goblet of Fire.  
>AN: I wrote this chapter four times. Each chapter is different. This is the one I picked. Enjoy and review :) Sorry about the wait, life happens. And I still need a beta, so either enjoy my story or don't, I don't really care. I apologize to the people who read through the grammatical errors and enjoy the story regardless. 

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><p>After a late lunch with the Weasley's Sirius had left with the excuse that he needed to see Dumbledore. That had been nearly a week ago. Harry hadn't heard from Sirius in six days. While his holiday was coming to an end he was making no effort to remedy the downward spiral it was taking. Even the rain mirrored his mood. It lashed angrily against the burrow's windows. Quidditch would have been a nice distraction, but both Ginny and Fred and had managed a cold after playing in the rain and Mrs. Weasley was reluctant to let them out again.<p>

Saturday instead found Harry sitting near the hearth just after dinner. He was in no mood to entertain Ron with another game of chess but the red head was insistent. Between Ron and Hermione Harry was starting to believe he would go spare. Neither left him alone no matter how hard he'd tried to brood. After relaying he'd had another nightmare and explaining the first few to Hermione, the trio had spent hours debating what the dreams had meant. Coupled with the events at the Quidditch World Cup, the prediction Trelawney had recited to Harry at the end of term, and the validity of his first dream, the nightmares were turning out more troubling then they had initially been. Each day Sirius didn't contact him led Harry to believe that his godfather has discovered just how much trouble they'd meant. As the days stretched on a tiny voice in Harry's head urged him to quietly maintain that whatever the trouble was, it was probably too much for Sirius. Ron and Hermione had noticed his withdrawal, but he was reluctant to admit his worry that he'd be returning to the Dursley's the next summer. What was more unnerving was the small possibility that he was too much trouble for Sirius. What if Sirius didn't want him anymore?

Luckily the Burrow had been a flurry of activity for the majority of the week. Both Percy and Mr. Weasley were working long hours at the ministry because of the world cup. When either would return home they'd divulge the details of their day to Molly; Percy would talk at anyone. Harry listened eagerly, anxious for any news regarding his godfather. He was hopeful that Sirius had been busy with something rather than what Harry relentlessly worried over. Still Sirius had no job let alone one with the ministry. Harry suspected Sirius didn't trust the ministry further than an inch, and he doubted Sirius was helping. Neither Weasley ever mentioned anything of Sirius and Harry didn't bring him up. Ron and Hermione seemed intent upon uprooting the reason for his brooding moods and he did not want to worry them anymore then he already had with his dreams. No one seemed to notice him lingering around, waiting for someone to let slip word of his absent guardian.

Ginny gave a particularly loud sniffle as she curled further beneath the tattered blanket she'd drawn over herself in the arm chair in the corner. The twins had their heads bent in the corner, alerting Harry to the fact that Mrs. Weasley had bustled into the kitchen. He glanced around relieved to notice Ron had found a new partner in Bill. The two brothers were currently engaged in a violent game of chess. Hermione was absorbed in a book, but Harry knew she'd look up at him periodically with a frown. Harry took his chance unable to contain himself any longer. He slipped stealthily from the company of his friends and into the kitchen. The only protest was the sound of Ginny's loud cough. He couldn't help thinking she'd done it purposefully because Hermione's sentiment floated to him as he cornered Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry dear," she said, her hand fluttered to her chest as she turned from the laundry she was instructing with her wand, "you gave me quiet the fright."

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said sheepishly, he rushed on, "Have you heard from Sirius?"

Mrs. Weasley turned toward him with a sympathetic smile, "No dear, I'm sorry. Professor Dumbledore wrote me a letter to tell me that he's been moving. I'm sure we could use the fire to call him if you'd like."

"Er – that's alright," Harry said, a cold feeling pitting in his stomach. Sirius had decided to move after all, and Harry couldn't help but feel directly responsible for the trouble.

Mrs. Weasley patted his head attempting to flatten some of his hair with the sympathetic gesture before turning back to her chores. With a glance at the living room Harry noticed that Ginny and Charlie had managed to somehow commandeer their sibling's attention with a funny story. Hermione was frowning to herself as she glanced around. Before she could spot him he darted up the stairs to Ron's room. He went to bed early in an attempt to chase away his souring mood; unfortunately he awoke the next day just as aggravated.

Term would start the next day and Harry did not hear one word from Sirius the entire morning. Mrs. Weasley seemed distracted with packing their things and though she didn't say anything everyone knew she was upset over Mr. Weasley's long hours at the ministry. Before lunch Ron caught her staring absently at the Grandfather clock in the sitting room. Mr. Weasley's hand stuck towards work with Percy's until finally Percy's jumped to traveling.

"Did your father say when he'd be home," Mrs. Weasley asked after hugging her son a hello.

"He's rather busy Mother, and I've been rather busy myself. I haven't seen him since this morning," Percy said pompously. "I've been positively swamped with work and Mr. Crouch hasn't been to work in days. Now if you don't mind I'll take my lunch to my room because I still have a lot to do."

Mrs. Weasley stared after him before taking a deep breath Harry thought she had badly needed. She enlisted her children's help to take their spare things to their rooms allotting Harry an excuse to fake checking his things once more. In Ron's room he took his time checking the few things he'd packed little over a week earlier. His trunk and most of his school things were still at Sirius', reminding him as he looked through his bag that he needed to address Mrs. Weasley. As far as he knew his things still lay scatted across his room near the sea and he wasn't sure how he was going to get them all to Hogwarts on time.

"Alright mate?" Ron asked, flopping onto his bed "How about a game of chess or exploding snap?"

"No, I've told Hermione I'd check her Charms essay," it was the truth at least. He'd told her Friday and managed to escape before he'd followed through. Ginny asked Hermione if she'd mind checking her homework over, and ecstatic, Hermione had agreed. It had allowed Harry the perfect getaway.

"She's mental, I checked it for her yesterday," Ron said tucking an arm beneath his head, "are you done with yours?"

"You're not," Harry asked, his mouth quirking up in the corners.

Ron shrugged, "Nah, but that's it," he said defensively. "I figure I can knock it out on the train. It's just one essay."

Harry snorted, picking at a fray in his jeans, "Hermione's going to go mental," he said.

Ron sat up, "I s'pose I could do it now," he glared at his school things.

"Do what," Hermione asked, appearing in the jamb of their bedroom. "Aren't you finished packing," she asked, tucking some hair behind her ear as she eyed Ron's opened trunk.

"Mum hasn't brought all my things up yet!" Ron protested.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down on the edge of Harry's cot, "What are you going to do Harry, aren't your things with Sirius?"

Harry stiffened, but toned coolly, "yeah."

"Are you going home tonight?"

"I don't know."

"What about your school things? Is your homework done? Don't you want to check it? I could have gone over it for you."

Harry swallowed down his irritation and ignored Hermione "Mind if I use Pig Ron?"

"Sure," Ron said glancing around his room, "Er, I think he might be downstairs with Errol."

"Ginny said you aren't allowed to leave him down there, he drives Errol – "

"I know," Ron said scathingly, "he was driving me barmy!"

Harry left the two of them to bicker, taking the steps two at a time with no intention of finding Pig and every intention of finding some privacy. Mrs. Weasley was talking to Percy in the kitchen however. Their voices floated to Harry from the landing where he paused just out of sight.

"– let a werewolf teach," Percy said imploringly.

"I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons. The children liked him, and he's good friends with Harry's godfather," Mrs. Weasley said brusquely. "He's probably very a good man Percy, just trying to make a living on what he can."

"But at a school mother – "

"I don't care Percy Ignatius, you'll keep your opinion to yourself around the others. They don't even know and they don't need to. He didn't ask to become a werewolf; heaven knows the poor soul doesn't deserve it. Now he'll be out of work and no one's going to hire him," she said tightly, her breathing was labored as if she was moving around while she spoke, "not with that awful women printing stories about him all over the prophet; oh that woman!"

"It's just one more thing the ministry has to deal with on top of everything else," Percy completely ignored his mother, "he should have known the truth would have come out."

"Well Dumbledore will have a hard time filling the post now," Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily, "a day before term starts. Of course Arthur says he's spoken with Alastor Moody about the post previously."

"The retired Auror," Percy asked, there was an edge of disbelief to his question.

"The same," Mrs. Weasley said reverently, "I'm sure he'll attempt to pull poor Alastor out of retirement."

"There's nothing sad about him mother. He's completely around the twist. What's Dumbledore thinking; first a werewolf and now Alastor Moody?"

Harry's confusion twisted his stomach up. Were they talking about Remus? A stair creaked beside him and he inhaled sharply. He glanced sideways at Ginny who held a finger to her lips and shook her head slightly. She beckoned him up the steps and he followed her quickly, sighting the lapse in Mrs. Weasley's conversation for suspicion. Ginny led him to the landing at her bedroom door, tugging him in after her just as the stairs began to creak. She leapt to her desk chair leaving Harry near the door just as Mrs. Weasley appeared behind them.

"I'm just not sure Harry," Ginny glanced over her shoulder, her ears flushing red could have been embarrassment at being caught with Harry just inside her room.

"Did you hear someone come by," Mrs. Weasley asked politely.

"No, but the ghouls been making an awful racket," Ginny lied easily; she glanced at Harry, "Harry was just telling me about Care of Magical Creatures. I don't know if I'm going to like it or not, I was trying to find something in my – "

"Alright dear," Mrs. Weasley said distractedly, moving on up the stairs.

Harry was surprised, eyebrows in his fringe he turned back to Ginny. Her sly grin was infectious; she turned her chair slightly to look better at him. They stared at each other in a comfortable silence, their grins fading as they considered what they'd heard. They only looked around when Mrs. Weasley stopped near Ginny's door again.

"Why don't the both of you come downstairs, it's rather humid up here with all the rain," she said subtly.

Ginny nodded and closed her book. She brushed past Harry in a breeze of lilac and wildflower, the smell of the burrow imbedded in the wet strands of her hair. Slipping past her mother she left the two of them alone.

"We'll have to fire call Sirius tonight. I've got your things from Diagon Alley, but you'll be needing the rest of everything," she turned and he followed her down the steps, "I'm sure he's been busy but he really could have wrote. Now you'll be scrambling in the morning, mark my words."

"It's alright Mrs. Weasley. Thanks for getting my things."

She smiled politely at him before branching into the kitchen to finish her dinner preparations. Hermione and Ron were quick to follow them down, arguing quietly as Harry sat close to Ginny.

"It doesn't change anything," she said discretely to him, deep brown eyes reassuring him.

Harry nodded his agreement. Remus had taught him how to conjure a patronus. He had been friends with Harry's parents and was close with Sirius. He'd gotten Harry a book for his birthday, and he was the best defense teacher Hogwarts had ever seen. Maybe the books had gotten it wrong, because Harry didn't know Remus to be aggressive or antisocial. It did explain the way people treated him, the reason why Remus missed classes, and even more the haggard look of someone so young.

"You think then – he's been sacked," Ginny asked, glancing sideways at Ron and Hermione who were bickering loudly while Hermione waved a blank parchment at Ron.

Harry's teeth came together and he suddenly felt very stupid; if Remus had been sacked then that was one more thing for Sirius to help with. Finally he didn't feel so naïve for hoping that his godfather hadn't merely grown to dislike him. It was possible between moving, talking to Dumbledore, and helping Remus that Sirius had been too busy to write. Harry took a deep calming breath.

Realizing Ginny was watching him he answered, "Dumbledore wouldn't sack him."

"But Percy said Dumbledore is going to hire Alastor Moody," Ginny pressed.

"What are you two whispering about," Ron asked bluntly.

Harry and Ginny looked up blushing wildly as Ron and Hermione joined them. They seemed to have worked out their differences or else Ron was just ignoring Hermione's burning glares. He'd taken over the quill and parchment she'd been waving at him, but he seemed determined not to pay any attention to it.

"It's Remus," Harry said with one glance at Ginny. He swallowed and clenched his fist, "we think he's been fired."

"What," Ron and Hermione chorused.

"What's this party and why haven't we been invited?"

Both Fred and George had joined the four. They crowded around Ron so elbows were thrown. The rough housing continued until finally the twins stilled. Harry felt too close to Ginny and Ron looked like he was about to punch one twin or the other.

"Oof," Hermione said as Fred, seemingly unpleased with her extensive amount of personal space, scooted hard into her side knocking her sideways rather roughly. Her cheeks flared red as she looked torn upon embarrassment or reprimanding him.

"Professor Lupin got sacked."

"No," both twins chorused in disbelief; Ron nodded between them.

"Why though," Hermione pressed, "he's the best defense Professor we've ever had!"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other before Harry sighed and answered, "We're not sure."

Hermione fidgeted next to Fred, biting her lip as she glanced at her folded knees, "oh I hope he's okay."

"Dinner," Mrs. Weasley called.

It was a terse affair. Hermione kept passing Harry furtive unreadable looks and Fred and George had managed to sneak something into Percy's food. After blowing up nearly half the dinner table Mrs. Weasley had shouted so loudly that Harry had only enough time to gulp down the rest of his first serving before the angered mother sent all of the children to their rooms. If Ron, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny hadn't laughed along with the twins Harry didn't think it would have escalated as far. Mrs. Weasley was in a right state as they thundered up the stairs to their respective rooms.

Hermione caught Harry before the trio split off, "Harry, you're dream!"

"What?"

"In your dream! You said you-know-who was happy because he was going to get his servant near you – do you think – do you think he found out about Remus and purposefully sold him out? It's just a guess but – what if this new Professor is one of his followers?"

"She's right," Ron said swiftly, ducking his head near theirs as he whispered in turn, "who else could it be?"

"You've got to tell someone Harry," Hermione rushed, "even if it's just a guess – you've got to say something!"

"It can't be the new Professor," Harry said.

"How do you know," Ron asked while Hermione looked skeptical.

"Harry this is really important!"

"No – it can't be! Ginny and I heard Percy and Mr. Weasley talking about this one; he used to be an Auror. And besides," Harry said quietly, "we don't even know Remus has been sacked yet, they never said he had been."

"Mum wants you," Ginny said, the last to come up the stairs counting Fred and George who'd run from their mothers shouting as quickly as they could.

"Me," Harry clarified, pointing at himself.

She nodded and he slipped past her, skipping down the steps as his heart leapt. Sirius had finally come to get him. His stomach turned nervously. What if Sirius had come to tell him he didn't want him anymore? What if Sirius was going to tell him he'd have to spend the next summer and the rest at the Dursley's? After just a month Harry had made up his mind. Nothing Dumbledore said was going to change the fact that Harry had never felt more at home then he had with Sirius. If Sirius thought he was too much trouble – he didn't like to think about it. His heart thundered in time with his feet until finally he swayed to a stop on the last stair. Harry's heart caught in his throat as he froze however, because it was not Sirius waiting for him, looking oddly out of place in the Weasley's tiny kitchen.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said in disbelief.

"Good evening Harry, I'm sorry to intrude upon the last of your holiday."

Harry glanced around for Mrs. Weasley, but the dishes piled high in the sink, bubbling of their own accord. Dumbledore smiled invitingly as Harry stepped off the last stair.

"Could I borrow you for a few words?"

Harry nodded blankly, searching for a reason why Dumbledore would make a house call the night before the start of term. He couldn't begin to fathom what the headmaster wanted to talk about. Could you get in trouble outside of school? He knew he could, he'd already almost been expelled twice. Harry sat down across from Dumbledore.

"Is something wrong sir," Harry started.

"No, no my dear boy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he sat across from Harry. His long fingers steeple over the warn wood of the table top, "I've actually come to discuss the issue of your guardianship with you. I trust Sirius has warned you that you were to make a decision at the end of the holiday?"

"Yes sir but…" Harry hesitated, fumbling with his fingers in his lap, "I don't know where Sirius is," he said finally, feeling rather stupid.

"Ah yes, he's been very busy moving, but he has had time to discuss with me recently the events of some of the dreams you've been having."

"They're not like dreams sir," Harry said unconsciously lowering his voice, "they're like I'm there."

Dumbledore nodded once, "and I have a guess as to what's happening, but for right now we need to discuss your living situation. Do you remember a discussion I had with you about your mother's death and the protection it offers you?"

Harry remembered vividly the discussion he'd had with Dumbledore at the end of his first year. It came back to him as if he'd thought on it avidly, but in truth he'd nearly forgotten. He nodded dumbly, not sure where Dumbledore was leading with the change in topic.

"It offers you another protection that has kept you safe for many years now."

"What's that sir," Harry asked, straightening in his chair. He didn't understand why his mother's sacrifice worked or how, but Dumbledore seemed to know a great deal about it. Once he'd told Harry that after time, he would explain to Harry what her sacrifice had meant. He sat forward unconsciously, eager to discover why his mother had sacrificed her life for him.

"Her blood and her sisters both offer you protection that living with Sirius Black cannot. So long as you call Petunia Dursley's house home a few weeks every summer, you will be protected against any who wish to do you harm. While living with your aunt no one can harm you. Unlike the Fidelius charm it is perfectly unflawed. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you Harry?"

"But why," Harry said, "I don't understand why it's just my Aunt? Didn't my parents make Sirius my godfather?"

"It is a very old magic Harry, one that has limits greater than most we understand. It isn't clear what your mother's intentions were that night but what we do know is that she died to save your life. Her sacrifice protects you in blood in more ways than one. I do not doubt your godfather's ability to keep you safe; it is more a matter of security. The Dursley's home can keep harm away from you at any rate. Where under the Fidelius, should I die or should Sirius invite some untrustworthy person into your home, you will not be safe."

Harry nodded; it didn't matter if Sirius didn't want him, Dumbledore clearly wanted Harry to remain with the Dursley's. He swallowed hard and knotted and unknotted his fingers in his lap. He'd have to spend every summer with the Dursley's; he was stuck with them.

"Once you are seventeen Harry, the spell with cease to work, and then I'm sure your godfather will still offer you a home."

"There's no other way? There's nothing Sirius can do," Harry quipped with a youthful hopefulness. There had to be something, he thought desperately.

"It is your decision Harry; should you want to stay with Sirius I cannot stop you. He is your godfather," Dumbledore said, his features clear so Harry could no longer tell what Dumbledore's inclinations were. When Harry stared at the table for a long silence Dumbledore said, "Sirius should be here soon if you'd like to discuss it with him. I should tell you Harry that I initially told your godfather I would prefer for you to remain with your relatives. Sirius will understand if you choose to remain with them."

"Sirius is coming?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, "would you like to speak with him first?"

Harry swallowed.

"Could I?"

"Of course Harry," Dumbledore stood up, "I should be going now," he checked his wrist watch, grey eyebrows shifted as he said, "much to do, you'll understand?"

"Yes sir," Harry stood up.

"Arrangements will be made once you make your decision," Dumbledore said near the door now, "do not feel inclined to make one over the other. I will see you soon Harry, do enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Goodnight Professor," Harry said as Dumbledore left.

"Arthur's dinner is going to get cold."

Harry jumped as he realized Mrs. Weasley had reappeared in the kitchen and was now tending to the pile of bubbles hiding the dishes in the sink. She sighed heavily as she cycled through the lot. Harry was saved having to say anything as slowly the Weasley's began to trickle down the steps again. Hermione badgered Ron over his homework all the way to the sitting room; she didn't seem as ignorant as Harry tried to be over the chess set tucked under Ron's arm. Harry wasn't in the mood for company, his indecision playing havoc with what he really wanted.

He was saved having to decide anything when Sirius didn't arrive after another hour. It was dark outside and Mr. Weasley had finally returned home. The sitting room was overly crowded and tense as Mrs. Weasley had lectured Percy into a blushing silence. Harry was going to throw the chess board at Ron if he asked to play again, and he didn't trust the playing cards Fred and George had procured. Hermione passed him the same looks she had at dinner, but Harry didn't feel much like bringing up the subject of his dreams in front of the entire Weasley family. The rain had turned to a light patter on the roof high above them and drowsiness had begun to take the room. Harry felt wide awake. Where was Sirius?

"Where are you going," Ron asked as Harry stood up from their fourth game.

"Toilet," Harry lied.

He was halfway up the steps before he realized Ginny was following him. He spun around intending to snap at Ron or Hermione, whom he'd originally suspected. Ginny grinned, probably predicting his aggravation. A book dangled from her fingers as she arched an eyebrow.

"Excuse me," she said smartly.

"Sorry," Harry said, his cheeks stinging though he wasn't sure why.

"They're just worried is all," she said, stopping aside him on the step so the smell of wildflower and lilac permeated the entirety of the tight corridor. "And usually if you ask Bill or Charlie they'll help you beat him. It's a bit more fun than losing each time, and Ron will be so angry in the end he won't ask you to play again."

Harry grinned "yeah?"

She nodded smiling, returning his grin. They looked around at the raised voices floating from the sitting room. Harry glanced at Ginny guessing it had something to do with the twins. She rolled her eyes in response, but they both jumped regardless as Sirius appeared out of their peripheral vision, mouth open wide in preparation to shout out for Harry.

"Sirius," Harry said excitedly, forgetting all his worry about where his godfather had been or why.

"Hey kiddo," Sirius said with a tiny smirk and the shortest look at Ginny, "ready to go?"

"Yeah, I've got to grab my things."

After saying goodbye to the Weasleys and thanking Mrs. Weasley twice, Harry set off with Sirius out of the garden. On the lane Sirius tossed an arm over Harry's shoulder. Rain pattered on their jackets while they stomped through the mud.

"What was that about?"

"What?"

"You and her – Ginny is it?"

Harry felt his ears burn, "Ginny?"

Sirius glanced sideways at him, his smirk widening, "you Potter's have a thing for red heads."

Harry shrugged away from Sirius' arm, "I haven't – I don't – like Ginny," he said brokenly, shaking his head, his cheeks burning. He hoped Sirius couldn't see him clearly in the dark. He didn't like Ginny; Ginny was Ron's sister.

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets, grinning ear to ear he teased, "Didn't look like that to me."

"Sirius – "Harry protested.

"Alright, alright," Sirius led him down another lane, "your father never liked to admit things either."

It had been like a week had never passed. Sirius wove into the long story of how James began to like Lily, laughing over all the details involving Harry's father adamantly refusing any inclination toward the red head. When Sirius looked pointedly at Harry he felt his cheeks burning once again. Glancing ahead of them and squinting through the dark Harry realized they'd been walking for some time.

"Where are we going Sirius?"

"Here," Sirius said, stopping near a very old and large tree.

Harry squinted at the parchment Sirius had procured. The rain dotted it but Harry recognized the cursive as his Headmaster's immediately. Almost instantly another lane appeared to their left. Sirius led him down it for ten minutes before a garden gate appeared. Nestled into the woods was a small cottage with an open lot of land cleared out of the trees behind it.

"Sorry I haven't written Harry," Sirius opened the gate, he sounded sincere as he fished through the pocket of his robes and withdrew his wand, "I've got a lot to explain once we get in."

"I already know about Remus," Harry said, wincing as Sirius froze. "We overheard Mrs. Weasley talking."

"Who," Sirius asked wearily, they stopped under the stoop.

"Er – Ginny and I."

Sirius arched an eyebrow, lifting his wand to tap on the door handle.

"I don't like her," Harry said firmly, starting to feel irritation pit in his stomach.

"Just don't say anything yet – Remus – he wanted to tell you himself," Sirius said glancing at the door, "I've offered him a room and I'm not sure he's staying permanently yet. We'll wait and see."

"Dumbledore said I had to decide where I want to live."

Sirius lowered his wand still poised toward the door handle. He licked his lips "he talked with you?"

Harry nodded, lowering his head as his stomach flipped with nerves.

"I want you to stay with me Harry," Sirius said quietly, "my offer still stands. I don't care what Dumbledore says," conviction sounded through his quiet words.

"You – still want me to live with you?"

"Why wouldn't I," Sirius asked bewildered.

"I….you don't mind?"

"I should be asking you if you mind. Remus and I have fleas you know, nasty little buggers what keep you up itching all night. Not to mention Remus isn't house broken."

Harry grinned.

"You mean it?"

"Remus never told you?"

Harry tried to suppress his smile, "what about Dumbledore?"

"I don't think it's the fleas he minds; Dumbledore's always been more of a cat person anyway."

Harry ducked under his fringe to hide his grin.

"Is that a yes pup? Are you alright with the fleas?"

Harry laughed, relief flooding him as answered with a resounding, "yes."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own it, you'll find some sentences and descriptions in the first 5 - 8ish chapters of GOF.  
>AN: I'm going to _try_ to update more regularly, think monthly or whenever I feel like(probably sooner). If you're waiting for Thursdays it should come by tomorrow night, same time - ish. Thanks for reading! 

* * *

><p>"He won't care," Sirius hissed.<p>

It was the first thing Harry heard beyond his dreams. Cold curled around his toes where the fire didn't reach them and Sirius' voice filtered from afar, further bothering the dull ache in his forehead. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't near a hearth, but his toes were frozen and rain sounded angrily from what he assumed was his now bedroom window. The pounding almost masked Remus Lupin's exasperation.

"He'll catch his cold, and he won't find it funny."

"He needs something to remember me for."

"He'll only be gone until the holiday," Remus muttered back.

Harry blinked up at his ceiling, grinning. Sirius liked to wake Harry with whatever prank he fancied, Harry had almost forgotten with the time he'd spent at the Weasley's. Although excited to return to school Harry was also disheartened by the idea of leaving his godfather. He supposed normal children felt similarly when attending Hogwarts their first year. Harry however had never had a home worth returning to or even missing. Sirius' mood would probably darken with the day and that coupled with the rain nearly spoilt Harry's mood entirely.

Sliding his frozen toes onto the hardwood he stealthily padded to a safe spot which would be shadowed upon the door being opened. Still half awake and slightly down trodden he made a last ditch effort to save the morning. Remus had quieted in the tight hallway beyond his bedroom and his door was inching silently open. Torn pillow case in hand, Harry waited until Sirius was just beyond the threshold. He didn't get the chance to see what Sirius was holding, but Harry's sudden appearance seemed to startle him either into action or a sloppy sloshing save of the buckets contents. There was a moment of confusion where the thick liquid tilted suddenly, down Sirius' front side. Harry simultaneously emptied his pillow case full of feathers in Sirius' direction.

"Argh," was all Sirius said, stumbling backward and then plopping with a heavy thud onto his bottom.

Down feathers floated down through the air while the glittery multi colored liquid peaked through patches of feathers. It took Harry a moment to find Sirius' face through the mess, his grey eyes round in surprise. They both took a breath, taking the other in, and then in one they broke into raucous laughter. It only took Remus moments to suspect anything had gone wrong. His footsteps sounded from the stairs and then he was there, staring between them both like they were crazy.

The werewolf broke into a wide grin that made him appear several years younger.

"Well I'd say that went south rather quickly."

"Give me a hand Harry," Sirius held out a feather and glitter goop covered hand.

Harry obliged without hesitation, blinking in surprise as Sirius jerked him into a cold sopping hug upon standing. Somewhere behind them Remus tried to warn him.

"Ace," Sirius laughed, tugging Harry away with an odd squelching sound.

"Ugh," Harry said, tugging on a sticky feather at his neck. It was reluctant to come away however.

"I told you it was a bit thick," Remus said, arching an eyebrow. He ducked out of range as Sirius came near him, "now the both of you will be scrubbing it off for weeks."

"It was Harry's idea to add feathers!"

"What is it," Harry said, finally jerking the feather away. It didn't hurt however. Upon feeling over the spot he felt a rising welt, cold to his touch.

"It's supposed to dye your skin," Sirius bent to inspect Harry's neck. Prying Harry's fingers away and pocking the welt feeling area he added, "instead it just looks like we rolled around in a glittery mud puddle, doesn't it, Remus?"

"With chickens," Remus added from afar, having retreated the way he came.

"Let's get him Harry," Sirius said conspiratorially.

After chasing Remus around the house, a small burnt breakfast Sirius had not yet perfected, and packing the remainder of his things, Harry was very nearly late to the train station. Sirius' bad mood had begun when Remus had shot down the alternative of flying, and while Harry didn't like apparation he didn't dare challenge the look his old professor shot Sirius.

Ron was hanging out of the train when Harry arrived; he waved a brief hello before Harry's vision was obscured completely by Mrs. Weasley. She enveloped him a tight hug while talking over his shoulder.

"You really should have come sooner, Harry's already missed the train once," Mrs. Weasley chastised Sirius, who was making childish faces behind her back.

"Come on Harry," Ron yelled from the train as the whistle blew.

Remus had finished hoisting Harry's trunk and Sirius stood away a bit looking sullen. Harry moved to say goodbye but Mrs. Weasley caught him roughly around the wrist and pressed him forward, all the while lecturing him and telling him to have a good year. When last Harry glanced over his shoulder Remus was waving along with the Weasley's. The train gave a jolt of motion so that Harry allowed Ron to pull him aboard. The door slammed in his face as they were closed. He pressed his face to the glass to catch his godfather's eye, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. Remus was saying something to the dark haired man. His dark eyebrows pressed together as Remus talked, or tried to reason with the animagus, Harry thought.

"Come on mate, Hermione's gotten us a compartment already," Ron said, nodding his head backwards.

Harry waved as the train began to build speed, Mrs. Weasley still had her eye on them, and finally Sirius seemed to notice as well. Harry thought he had seen his godfather nod his head, the glint of a small smile falling away the further the train went.

Hermione was having an in depth discussion about Herbology with Neville Longbottom when finally they were settled into a compartment. Ron was sorting through his chocolate frog cards in anticipation of purchasing a new one come lunch. The cool rattling window pane hardly offered Harry the comfort he was searching for in the rainy world beyond it.

"Is that a feather in your hair," Hermione admonished, plucking a tiny feather from the back of Harry's head.

Harry very nearly smiled. He opened his mouth to explain but the compartment door slid open instead to admit Malfoy of all people. His cronies stood beyond him, grinning just as stupidly, Harry noticed.

"I thought for sure your lot would be excited," Malfoy sneered down his pointed nose.

"Excited for what, Malfoy," Harry snapped back before Ron could.

"You mean to tell me you honestly don't know? Even as an ex-convict Black is still better off than shall we say – a weasel," Crabbe and Goyle burst into laughter behind him.

"How's yours Malfoy?" Harry shot, "String up any more muggles lately?"

Malfoy ignored him, "I bet you'll try and enter weasel bee, your family must be practically penniless after the World Cup. Not that you had many to begin with. I bet your mother –

"No one cares Malfoy," Hermione said tartly.

"Of course you wouldn't, Granger. You're a mudblood after all and I doubt the goblet will –

Harry and Ron had their wands drawn before he could finish.

"Say another word, Malfoy," Harry warned. Ron was practically shaking where he stood aside him.

Draco's lip curled and he backed up a step, "go ahead Potter, my Father said –

"I don't give a damn what your father says," Harry stepped forward, "say another word against Hermione and –

"Just because you've got yourself parent's now Potter doesn't mean they aren't as disposable as the first set."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Harry," Hermione said, in a small voice behind him. He was nearly in the corridor and Malfoy had backed up even further.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, you can always buy yourself a new pet, unlike Weasley," he smirked fleetingly and then spun and led his friends away. Harry contemplated following him. It took all of his patience for him to allow Hermione to tow him back into the compartment.

"He was lying Harry, he's Malfoy don't forget," Hermione pressed when the compartment sat in silence for a while.

"He wasn't even making any sense," Neville tried, eyebrows molding together in confusion. Of course he hardly knew that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and probably hadn't heard about Sirius' animagus form. None of them had yet to figure out what it was that was coming to Hogwarts.

Whatever was happening at Hogwarts seemed to be the talk of the train. Harry went to use the toilet only to hear a compartment of seventh years guessing at what it might be. Guesses seemed to range from medieval jousting tournaments, only involving dragons, to new age Quidditch tournaments which would involve new rules and students from other schools.

Neither Harry Ron nor Hermione found themselves much in the mood for entertaining the topic although Neville seemed keen on it. Hermione was trying her best to lighten Harry and Ron's terrible moods, but Ron was downright incorrigible. Harry humored her with the glimmer of a smile periodically, trying to hide his furthered anxiety for his godfather.

Getting off the train and to the castle had been even more miserable. Harry agreed with Hermione's sentiment for the first years that would have to ride across the lake through the raging rain and weather. Even inside the school they were not safe. Peeves delighted in throwing water balloons at them and other students until McGonagall had come along, and even then it had been too late.

Sitting in the Great Hall to rows and rows of empty plates while they sat starving, sopping wet and mostly miserable, was not a memory Harry would look back on fondly. Fred and George tried to entertain the group of Gryffindors at large, but Ron seemed determined to notice other things. He pointed at the staff table before returning his hand to its incessant rubbing of his rumbling stomach.

"Maybe Dumbledore couldn't get Moody to take over for Lupin," Ron said, leaning over the table to get a better look.

"I don't understand," Neville said, glancing away from the front of the hall, "Professor Lupin isn't teaching again this year?"

The trio exchanged a glance before Seamus leant toward them.

"Didn't ya' read the prophet Neville," he blurted.

"No," Neville answered, looking confused.

"Lupin's a werewolf," Dean Thomas said.

Neville looked confused for a moment.

"It doesn't make a difference," Harry said firmly.

"Never said it did," Seamus said defensively.

"Lupin was the best defense teacher we ever had," Dean Thomas prompted.

Neville swallowed and seemed to finally understand, "it's the curse," he said at last.

"Professor Lupin wasn't sacked, he quit," Hermione said smartly.

Seamus, Neville, and Dean began to object this, with Seamus suggesting they address Dumbledore directly. His fist slamming on the table was unheard as a clap of thunder sounded above them, the night sky reflecting in the ceiling of the great hall. They all watched the purple gray clouds as they roiled along. Thunder shook the walls around them. There wasn't much more time to discuss the matter thereafter. The sorting began before Ron could complain about his burgeoning hunger and anyone else could get a word in edgewise. The sorting only finished when both topics of discuss had been abandoned altogether, none of the boys would have gotten another word in with their mouths overflowing with food.

Dinner progressed as predictably as possible; with Ron and Hermione bickering. Hermione wouldn't touch an olive after Nearly Headless Nick had brought up the topic of house elves. Ron spent the remainder of their dinner teasing her, only quieting when Dumbledore stood to address the school in his start of term speech.

Harry wondered if the headmaster had already been informed of his decision. Harry's return home the evening before had been brief. Sirius had rummaged around in the kitchen for an after dinner snack, and Harry had joined Remus in the sitting room after a brief tour of his new bedroom. The werewolf didn't seem overtly nervous but when Sirius returned his lips tugged into a frown Sirius could not reverse. The animagus was almost unbearable, still Harry found his mood infectious; he was finally going to live with his godfather, he never had to see the Dursleys ever again.

Remus cleared his throat when Sirius and Harry had finished with their treacle tart. Remus' sat untouched on his plate, discarded on the side table near his chair. His amber eyes looked tired and anxious as they swept the room. Sirius seemed to somber at Harry's side on the sofa.

"Harry there's something you should know if I'm going to be staying here, and in honest I should have told you before anyway," Remus' chest heaved with his inhale, his amber eyes met Harry's.

Tension swathed the room so that Harry imagined the extreme difficulty his father's friend must be having in admitting his secret. Although Sirius had warned him otherwise he couldn't allow for Remus to go through the pain of admitting something Harry already knew.

"I already know," Harry had rushed, "I overheard Mrs. Weasley talking about the – the prophet."

"Oh," Remus said, his cheeks flushed as his fingers knotted in his lap.

"To be honest I feel a bit left out," Harry thought aloud. Sirius glanced curiously over at him but Remus did not look up, "I can't turn into anything myself, and if I'm going to have to live with flees it seems only fair I should have fur too."

"Oh," Remus said dumbly, exhaling and then inhaling as Sirius burst out laughing.

"Maybe I could learn to become an animagus too," Harry thought excitedly. He glanced over at Sirius, "it helped right?" he guessed.

Sirius' eyebrows lifted and he opened his mouth to respond but Remus interjected, "it's too dangerous Harry, and Lily would kill us anyway." He looked uncomfortable as he shot Sirius a warning look.

"She was always a bit peeved about the fleas," Sirius winked.

Remus' lips twitched and then he exhaled, "Thank you, Harry," he said at last.

They'd stayed up late with Sirius recounting the Marauders various escapades during multiple Full Moons. Remus had been skeptical at first, but was laughing as hard as Sirius near the end. Luckily Remus had the sense to send them to bed around three, shaking his head at their complaints as he hustled them up the stairs.

Harry had been excited to go back to school the night before; the idea of playing Quidditch and using magic was too enticing. The idea of leaving Sirius until the holidays however, wouldn't have been so troubling if his godfather hadn't seemed so brooding just earlier. He barely said a word at the station, his meager parting smile still bothered Harry endlessly, even hours later. He frowned remembering Malfoy's warning, his anxiety pitting in his stomach, at the forefront of his hunger.

Harry was trying to rekindle his excitement from the night before when Dumbledore's speech took a turn from the usual.

"…It is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped, he had to of heard wrong. Glancing around at his friends he noticed twin horror on the faces of Ron's brothers. His fellow team mates looked varying degrees of angry and agonized. A rumble of dissent went through the school.

"…I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –

But whatever was coming to Hogwarts would have to wait. A deafening roar of thunder followed immediately by the banging open of the doors to the Great hall. A man Harry had never before seen limped in. Every head swiveled toward him, necks craned, and Harry himself leant past Ron to get a better look. Lightening lit up the man's features as he lowered his hood to reveal scarred features and dark gray grizzled hair. A dull clunk echoed throughout the silent hall with every step he took. Apart from severe scarring Harry noticed only one other aspect of the man's appearance. A large electric blue eye swiveled around, very unlike its paralleled match. The man greeted Dumbledore with a respectful hand shake and then followed Dumbledore's gesture toward an empty chair at the staff table. Dumbledore announced him promptly and the silent hall burst into murmurs at once.

"Dad had to help him this morning," Ron muttered to Hermione's nodding assent.

"What happened to his face," Hermione whispered next, "what's happened to him?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

It took only mention of the Triwizard tournament to gather the school's attention. Dumbledore beamed while he explained the tournament, having warranted so much attention without really trying. The excited buzz from the train returned tenfold until Dumbledore mentioned the age limit. After that the mood seemed to somber some, with most people, Ron and his brother's included, thinking up things to hoodwink their way into the competition illegally.

"Aren't you excited Harry," Ron asked as the fourth year boys changed into their pajamas a while later.

Harry glanced away from Dean Thomas' football poster, "It'll be brill and all to see," he said tentatively. He imagined for the briefest second his name being called from the cup, the cheer of the crowd as he represented Hogwarts. He shook his head and climbed into bed, "I am," he agreed lamely.

Ron gave him a skeptical look before climbing into his own bed, "well I hope Fred and George come up with something. Just think – one thousand galleons! Maybe Hermione will help out," he trailed off in a yawn, disappearing under the blankets of his bed.

"Alright Harry," Neville asked as Ron's snores overcame those of Dean's and Seamus'.

Harry turned over in bed, taking little comfort in the heating pan between his blankets. He could see Neville just through the dimming darkness. The rain was just light enough to make out his voice from across the room.

"Are you still worried about – about Mr. Black," Neville asked nervously in a quiet voice.

"I'm fine," Harry said, rolling onto his back and staring up at his hangings.

"Maybe you should write a letter if you miss – home," Neville prompted.

Except Harry didn't want to worry Sirius, he thought sourly. The effort it would take to send a letter seemed too much, and Sirius was sullen enough without worrying about him too.

"You could tell him about the tournament anyway," Neville said sleepily.

A few seconds passed and then Neville's even breathing came from a bed away. Harry thought about what he had said, staring across the room into the big clawed mirror that sat in the corner. The boys rarely used it; Harry never much cared for his reflection since he'd left the Dursleys. Mrs. Dursley had always hated his hair and more out of habit Harry had grown to tame it in her presence. Between Neville's advice and the mirror he eventually found himself on the floor before his trunk. A few moments digging and his fingers found their prize. It wasn't the first time Harry had forgotten about the old mirror; it was such an odd gift and also too prized an heirloom of his father's.

He carefully undid the wrapping, a sweater he'd used to protect it. His reflection stared back at him looking haggard and worried. With a quick glance around the room he stood up and slipped through the door, down the spiral stairs, and into the common room. Folding onto his knee he drew the mirror forward in the dim light of the dying fire. Rain still raged against the window pain and a chill had crept over his toes, fingertips and ears as he'd sat staring at himself.

"Sirius," Harry said lightly, frowning as Sirius didn't immediately appear like he had the first few times Harry had used the mirror.

"Sirius," Harry repeated after a few breaths.

"Hold on pup," he heard Sirius say in a muffled tone.

Harry waited obediently.

It was a handful of minutes before Sirius' face appeared, "Harry," he said, perhaps thinking Harry had left before realizing Harry had waited. His grey eyes zoomed away from their distraction to take Harry in, "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Am I in trouble," Harry smirked jokingly.

Sirius smirked in return, "this has better be good, kiddo."

Suddenly Harry felt nervous, what if Sirius thought he was whining again?

"Did you hear about the Triwizard Tournament?"

Sirius' smirk widened, "I did, but the students weren't supposed to know. It was supposed to be a surprise. Moony practically made me swear on a Wizard's Oath. Arthur did a good job then as well – none of the Weasley's knew?"

"Mr. Weasley knew?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

Harry swallowed, blinking away Malfoy's words from the train.

"What's up," Sirius asked easily.

Harry glanced away from the odd look in his godfather's eyes. It felt completely stupid to confess his anxiety then. Harry had no right to ask Sirius why he'd been so upset, and he would only bother him more if he brought up Malfoy.

"I think I hear someone coming," Harry said suddenly, "I've got to go."

"Harry," Sirius said quickly, but Harry had already vanished. He frowned at the mirror.

"What's wrong," Remus asked immediately, leaning away from the wall he'd rested against.

He looked particularly shabby in his robes, barely warm though he'd used a warming charm and a spell kept the rain away him like an invisible umbrella. Sirius looked just as tired, if not more anxious. Both looked out of sorts in the tiny town they'd found themselves in, only after a day of following leads from Dumbledore. No muggles dared wander out into the violent rain storm which had plagued all of England. In fact they had yet to find anyone in the god forsaken town, and both looked hopeless as they assessed their surroundings and the other.

"He seemed upset."

"Do you think he had another dream," Remus asked in a quiet voice. His eyes swept over Sirius, appraising the growing change in his friend. Sirius had hardly worried a day in life, except for maybe Lily and James, and Harry, when he was a baby. Now he looked practically anxious to finish their search, if not to go directly to Hogwarts thereafter.

"He would have told me; you said you talk to him?"

"That's no guarantee, Sirius," Remus said in a measured way.

"He didn't look bothered – like that."

"Wait until tomorrow, maybe it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Yeah," Sirius pressed his long hair from his forehead, "maybe he was mad I didn't tell him about the tournament, Merlin knows he loves quidditch."

"That doesn't seem like him at all," Remus said slowly, distractedly; his eyes shifted around the deserted dirt road.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, the hairs along his neck rising, "do you think we're being followed?"

"Definitely," Remus whispered in turn.

"Here," Sirius said, holding open the door to the Inn they'd been about to enter when Harry had called him.

Only one person sat slumped at the bar, their eyes drooping as they looked around with the bar keep. Sirius led Remus to the drunk's side, ignoring Remus while he glanced around the darkened corners of the pub.

"Something I can help you lads with," the bar keep asked, eying them both in an irritated way while he finished scrubbing the bar top from his side.

"We're looking for a friend."

The barkeep paused, "I haven't seen her."

Sirius arched an eyebrow but before he could ask the barkeep answered.

"Some men were in earlier this week, and this morning, asking for some Bertha Jokings –

"Jorkins," Remus corrected, turning finally to meet the bar keep eye for eye.

"Well I haven't seen her," he snapped, "now if you won't be getting anything then get out."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a long look before Remus took a deep breath and Sirius stunned both the drunkard and then the bar tender.

"The ministry must have thought she'd come here," Remus said as they leapt over the bar and dragged the bar tender upright, binding him while they talked.

"They didn't use a memory charm. You would have thought they might have, to keep people from poking around," Sirius sighed tiredly. He knelt down in front of the graying bar tender, "if their reversal squad couldn't work it…."

Remus swallowed and exhaled, "we should just leave then?"

Sirius nodded but froze as the door to the pub creaked open, watching Remus as he too ducked down. A rush of cold icy wind came with it, the sound of pouring rain roaring loud before it was dimmed by the thick wood of the door. Boots squeaked across the old wood of the pub's floor. Remus and Sirius knelt, waiting behind the bar. They held their breaths, communicating with their eyes while silence fell around them.

"Avada Kedavra."

The dim light of the bar was suddenly bright with green, there was a thud as the slumped drunkard fell from his stool. Sirius reacted before Remus could, and just like the war had never ended, just liked Sirius had never gone to Azkaban, and James and Lily were alive and hiding somewhere, the pair leapt side by side, wands raised to duel.


End file.
